


As N Approaches Infinity

by Corisanna



Series: Significant Figures [1]
Category: Bleach, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Being Meguca Is Suffering, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Doomed Timelines, Faustian Bargain, Friendship, Gen, Homura Needs Therapy and Hugs, Lies, Magic and Science, Magical Girls, Making Use of Characters Kubo Wasted, Shinigami, Slow Build, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 66
Words: 328,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corisanna/pseuds/Corisanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despairing as yet another timeline goes horribly wrong, Homura wanders into Karakura. There she discovers that while the spiritually-aware people of Karakura were distracted by Ichigo Kurosaki and Xcution, Kyubey had managed to contract the Kurosaki sisters as magical girls. Drawing the attention of the shinigami could be just the advantage Homura needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PROLOG IM FEGEFEUER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So hey, I've finally resurfaced from my period of obsessive studying. I banned fic for myself during that time, so of course my brain decided to come up with a new idea to spite me. No idea how consistently I'll update this. For this fic, you should know Bleach through the end of the Xcution arc and all of Madoka Magica's core anime (no movies). I'm going to be cheerfully contorting the canon mechanics of Madoka Magica and spoiling the hell out of it right out the gate so if you haven't watched it, you might want to go do that. It's only twelve episodes long. Don't be fooled by the cuteness-- that thing is an angstfest.

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**PROLOG IM FEGEFEUER**

**TIMELINE X + N + 54**

A peaceful spring had descended upon Karakura Town. It was a welcome relief to the inhabitants of the Urahara Shop. The sinister supernatural plotting and their major project had been neatly resolved mere months before. All the supernaturally aware residents of Karakura had breathed a collective sigh of relief and found themselves able to relax and enjoy the budding and blossoming of trees and flowers. True, they would never be free of Hollows, but individual Hollows were much less stressful than predatory conspiracies. Simple Hollow hunting was like a vacation compared to the threats orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen and Xcution.

One of these calm spring days two weeks into the new school year found Jinta Hanakiri and Ururu Tsumugiya in the courtyard of Urahara Shop, as usual. Neither had bothered to change out of their school uniforms. Life had gone back to normal for them, which is to say, Ururu was dutifully sweeping the path while Jinta acted out and narrated an imaginary baseball game in which he led his team to victory. Both stopped and looked up when someone entered the courtyard.

A girl with long dark hair stood primly at the entrance to the yard. She appeared to be a middle schooler, but her uniform was unfamiliar to Jinta and Ururu-- a cream jacket, red bow, and black and white plaid skirt worn with black leggings. The girl stared at them for a moment, then approached the shop with a measured pace.

Ururu smiled blandly. “Welcome to Urahara Shop. Can I get anything for you? Today we have a sale on imported candy.”

The girl stopped a couple yards from the shop entrance. “No, thank you,” she replied in a cool voice. “I would like to speak with the owner, please.”

Ururu blinked. Before she could answer, Tessai's mountainous form leaned out the door. “May I ask what about, Miss?”

The girl shifted her gaze to him, unruffled. “Personal business.”

Tessai cocked his head to one side and sized her up. Not recognizing her but sensing that she was more than the average human, he asked, “And who shall I tell him is calling?”

The girl ran a hand through her hair and tossed it over her shoulder. “Homura Akemi.”

“All right. Please, do come in.”

Tessai led Homura into the shop, ushered her to a table in the room behind the stock room, served her tea, and disappeared into the depths of the building. Jinta and Ururu found excuses to clean the stock room so as to find out what the mysterious stranger wanted. Homura merely sat neatly and stared at her teacup between sips.

Ten minutes later, Kisuke Urahara breezed into the room, Tessai at his heels, and cheerfully began, “Good afternoon, Miss Akemi! Lovely day, isn't it?”

Homura blinked up at him and set down her empty cup. She folded her hands in her lap. “I suppose so, Mr. Urahara.”

Urahara seated himself across from Homura, grinning rather manically as Tessai refilled Homura's teacup and served his employer before backing away.

“So! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss Akemi?” Urahara peered at her over the rim of his teacup.

Homura shifted slightly. Highly observant, Urahara noted her fists clench and unclench. “I have collected the data you requested and am here to submit it for study.”

Urahara raised an eyebrow curiously. “Thank you very much, Miss Akemi. What data would that be?”

Homura picked up her teacup again and solemnly stared at Urahara over it. “The data you requested in an effort to save the lives of the Kurosaki sisters from a threat that went unnoticed while you were distracted by their brother.” She calmly sipped her tea. A scuffling noise came from the stock room.

Urahara froze, mind racing. He rapidly considered and discarded possibilities, then lowered his head and peered out at Homura from the shadow of the brim of his hat. “And how could I have requested such data from you when I am unaware of any threat and don't recall meeting you before?”

Homura lowered her teacup and locked eyes with him. She pushed her hair behind one ear and bluntly replied, “Just because this is the first time you have met me doesn't mean that I haven't met another you.”

Urahara stared. In the silence, they could hear Jinta's muffled voice declare, “That makes no goddamn sense.”

Several moments passed as Urahara thought. Homura merely sipped her tea. Finally, Urahara leaned toward her and slowly asked, “When did you meet me, then?”

Serene, Homura answered, “Five weeks from now.”

Urahara quirked one eyebrow. “Five weeks ago?”

Homura shook her head slightly. “No, roughly five weeks from today. Late April. The day the Tenth Division Captain has arranged to begin his survey of his division's assigned districts in this region, starting with Naruki City. His goal is to ensure the density of shinigami he is assigning to cover the area is adequate. He contacted you to arrange for supplies two days ago.”

Urahara sat back and stared at her for a long time. The girl patiently bore his scrutiny.

Finally, Urahara tipped his hat to her and grimly said, “It seems we have much to talk about, Miss Time-Traveler.”

Homura inclined her head in agreement. “Quite.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	2. EINS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The idea to use selective bolding instead of runes is something inspired by The Magic Catgirl's Like No Other. I think it's a brilliant idea. I'm new to Madoka fandom so I don't know if that's a common thing or what, but it's still brilliant.

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**EINS**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Homura stood on a catwalk in a building under c **o** nstruction across from the Mita **k** ihara train s **t** ation. A haunting m **a** ritime symphony still echoed in her head; ghostly **v** iolinists danced across her eyes. She stared numbly at the wall where the entrance to the Merma **i** d Witch's labyrinth had just melted **a** way in the dying sunlight. The sharp ping of the Witch's Grief Seed bouncing on the catwalk dispelled the final strains of the ominous melody. After a moment, Homura bent and picked it up.

Too late again. Always too late. Or wrong. Or both, this time.

She had not expected this timeline's Kyōko to care enough about Sayaka to want to save her. Had not expected this Kyōko to have enough idealism to even consider the possibility. Had definitely not expected Kyōko to drag Madoka with her on her fool's errand. Was absolutely shocked to enter the haunted, inverted concert hall only to witness Kyōko launching a suicide attack at the Mermaid Witch, in whose armored hand Homura had mere moments to see Madoka's crushed, bloodied body. Homura had only begun to comprehend the magnitude of her failure when the labyrinth crumbled around her, awash in ruby light.

None of this had happened in other timelines, so what had she missed this time? Even her manipulation of time didn't allow for her to be everywhere at once, so she had no idea what Kyōko and Sayaka had gotten up to. What was most frustrating was the fact that she would be unable to find out-- after all, everyone she could ask was dead.

This time Homura had managed to let everyone else die ten entire days before Walpurgisnacht's descent. Homura looked down at the shield attached to her left wrist and the purple glint of the Soul Gem on her hand. She had ten entire days' worth of sand left in her shield's sand timer. Ten entire days before the sand timer would reverse and send her back to the beginning. She had ten entire days to wander around Mitakihara and reflect on her failure and plan for the next timeline while the city taunted her with memories of what once was.

Unbearable.

That would be unbearable.

While there were multiple timelines in which Mami, Kyōko, and Sayaka didn't survive until the end, never before had she approached Walpurgisnacht with Madoka already dead. Fresh grief and ten days to reflect on her failure... no. She would despair. The futility of facing Walpurgisnacht in this timeline would drag her down and turn her into a Witch before she could save Madoka in the next timeline. Homura couldn't allow that to happen.

With halting steps, Homura turned from the wall and wandered back across the catwalk. Plodded down the stairs instead of hopping down. Aimlessly left the construction site and roamed the train switchyard. Blankly stared at the sky as a commuter train roared past her and disheveled her hair in the last of the twilight.

Generally, Homura disapproved of whims these days. Impulsiveness had proven too deadly for her to do much without forethought. But the rising need to _get away_ from Mitakihara consumed her. She couldn't bear to see Madoka's empty desk at school. Couldn't bear the inevitable media furor that would arise when Madoka was reported missing, Mami's disappearance was finally noticed, and Sayaka's corpse was discovered wherever Kyōko had stashed it. Couldn't bear the cheerfully accusatory faces of her friends staring out at her from missing persons posters. Couldn't bear that there would be no posters for Kyōko, as there was no one left to miss her. So, on reflection, it wasn't terribly surprising that Homura lifted her shield, stopped time, staggered her way to the passing train, and jumped onto its roof. She flopped down on the cold metal and automatically secured herself with magic. Time resumed with a _click_. Scenery rushed by in a blur before Homura's dull eyes.

She didn't particularly care where the train took her as long as it wasn't Mitakihara.

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .  
>  OKTAVIA VON SECKENDORFF  
> The Mermaid Witch. It is in her nature to fall in love. Looking for the feeling that moved her so long ago, she moves with the entire concert hall. Her fortune only turns under the weight of memories and no longer moves toward the future. Nothing will reach her any longer. She will come to know nothing more. She simply allows no one to disturb her minions' playing.
> 
> Minion: Holger, whose duty is to perform. Several of them form a hollow orchestra that continually plays music for the witch. People who listen to their music for long enough will lose their soul. This orchestra only exists for its witch; to her, the orchestra is everything.


	3. ZWEI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, hey, some actual action this time. :)

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**ZWEI**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Homura had a warped relationship with the flow of time. It played tricks on her sometimes in ways the less-rational part of her mind considered revenge for her manipulations. Morosely perched upon the train, Homura ceded all control and let time do with her what it would. She passively drifted along with time as the train charged through it, simply watching the constellations appear and shift as the wind and wheels roared in her ears. Many stops barely registered to her. Homura finally blinked back to reality when a regular stop stretched on unusually long and the sound of men arguing drifted up to her.

Glad for something new to focus on, Homura climbed to her feet and stealthily hopped along the cars until she reached the engine, where the arguing was loudest.

“You're not _listening_. I'm _telling_ you, the computer is saying we're scheduled to be here until midnight, but that's obviously wrong.”

“Obviously. Are you sure you tried to override it?”

“Yes! I told you five times already! The system shut down the train and won't let me re-start it!”

“Maybe you should let me try. It's been a long shift, eh?”

“Are you saying you think I'm too tired to know what I'm doing?!”

“Not exactly--”

“I could do this in my sleep! But something is wrong with the scheduling program! You should be able to see it on the station terminal, too!”

A deep sigh. “Right, right. Let me look at it.”

The men withdrew into the train, their bickering growing muffled as they went deeper into the engine.

Homura cocked her head curiously. After a moment, she shrugged and reached up to push her hair away from her face.

Her Soul Gem was glowing.

Adrenaline flooded her body. She sharply surveyed the train station, then slowly spun and swept her bejeweled hand around her like a compass needle. The Soul Gem glowed the brightest when she faced the train station proper. The magical girl frowned and gracefully descended from the train car. She flitted from corner to corner like a phantom thief, largely concealed by the purples and blacks of her costume. Eventually, the glowing Soul Gem led Homura to the main electronic schedule display board. Her eyes narrowed. There, a momentary flicker. Homura brandished her Soul Gem, prompting the appearance of an orange sigil shaped like a pumpkin with a clock face, overlapping stylized butterfly wings. Scowling, Homura passed through the portal.

The labyrinth was new to her, though it reminded her of the initial appearance of the Mermaid Witch's labyrinth when she had first transformed. There were haphazard train tracks and tunnels zigzagging about. Industrial wreckage littered every surface that did not host rails. A multitude of clocks adorned every vertical surface, causing an echoing cacophony of asynchronous ticking. This nightmare world didn't have the heavy sense of presence that a true labyrinth held, so it likely only housed a Familiar. No matter; Homura could stand to vent by shooting up an inconsequential enemy. She drew a gun and used her Soul Gem to choose the best train track to follow.

As she wove through the maze of tracks and tunnels, the sound of battle drew her attention and gradually grew louder. So another magical girl had beaten her to the punch. Homura paused, considered leaving, and decided to continue for lack of anything else to do. Soon, she emerged into what appeared to be a large subway station studded with clocks, the floor covered in scattered wreckage and pumpkins of varying sizes. The familiar was plainly visible on a far platform. It was a scarecrow the size of a man with a gigantic turnip for a head. It was dressed as a train conductor. A whistle was **j** ammed into the turnip where a mouth would be on a human face. The whole thing topped off its surreality with a p **a** ir of glimmering fairy wings on its bac **k**. A shrill burst of sound fr **o** m its whistle knocked **b** ack not one but two magical girls, one clothed in red and the other in yellow.

(Homura would have preferred to find magical girls wearing different colors. Like green. Or perhaps brown. Red, yellow, blue, and pink were heavy colors for her. Especially pink. Thank everything neither of them wore pink. She could handle red and yellow, in comparison.)

The two girls recovered admirably, vaulting in different directions. They executed what appeared to be a practiced move: The yellow-clad girl lashed out and ensnared the Familiar's legs with a golden whip and yanked. When the Familiar fell, the red-clad girl rushed in and slashed it with a katana. The fairy scarecrow shattered like glass and the labyrinth began to waver out of existence.

The yellow-clad girl threw her hands up and cheered happily. The red-clad girl grinned and high-fived her partner, then noticed Homura standing against the far wall of the deserted train station terminal. Homura had to give the girl credit-- she snapped into seriousness and took a defensive pose in the blink of an eye. The yellow-clad girl instantly went on alert, too, despite apparent confusion.

Homura stood passively as the red-clad girl with dark hair and eyes stared at her suspiciously. After a moment, Homura spread her arms slightly, palms forward, and quietly called out, “I do not intend to attack you. I apologize for the intrusion. I was traveling and didn't realize the situation was under control.”

The yellow-clad girl relaxed. Her red-clad companion lowered her blade but remained wary. Homura took a moment to glance around the empty train station. The previously glitched electronic schedule board declared the time to be 9:17 PM. The next train wasn't scheduled to appear until 10 PM. That explained the lack of people. Homura returned her gaze to the new magical girls. The red-clad girl opened her mouth to speak but stopped and glanced to the side when exaggerated steps echoed along the tile hall, accompanied by male voices.

“The train conductors,” Homura announced. She stared the wary girl in the eye and released her power, allowing her school uniform to replace her magical girl costume. After a beat, the other two girls followed suit, each wearing matching school uniforms. They were still staring at each other when the two uniformed men who Homura had overheard arguing turned a corner and crossed the far end of the room. The three girls silently watched the two men bicker about glitches and technical support. One stopped suddenly as his mobile device beeped.

“Oh, _now_ it works?”

“Eh? The reset went through or something?”

“Damned if I know. System says it's ready to go now. What the hell is with this town, Kazuo? Something goes wrong with my train whenever I come through here. It's like the place is jinxed.”

“Well, weird things do happen in Karakura. You get used to it. Just get back on your train and get on with your life. No big deal.”

“Tch. Easy to say when you're not the one who's going to get chewed out for being late.”

“Then get back on your train and _go_ before you run later. God, you're such a--”

The girls watched the men separate and stood silently until they heard the muffled sounds of the train pulling out of the station. The brunette who had worn the yellow costume started slightly and turned to Homura.

“Oh! Was that your train?”

Homura turned to the girl. She found the brunette looking concerned while her black-haired companion's face had settled into deadpan boredom. After a moment, Homura realized the girl expected an answer. “I suppose.”

“Tch.” The dark-haired girl tossed her ponytail and stretched a bit. “You _suppose_ that was your train?”

The brunette pouted. “Karin!”

“Yeah, yeah, Yuzu.” Karin waved a hand dismissively before locking both hands behind her head, elbows up in the air. With a bored skepticism, she drawled, “So you're traveling and don't mind missing your train? Where are you going?”

Homura stared, then blandly answered, “Nowhere in particular.”

Karin raised her brows dubiously and drew breath to speak. The brunette beat her to it, glaring her into silence as she tried to enforce politeness. Yuzu turned to look at Homura and earnestly said, “I understand if you want to keep that secret. We've only met one other magical girl and--” she faltered-- “I can understand if you don't want us to be able to follow you. But you look kind of lost and tired, so if you tell us where you want to go, we can help you. We don't want any more territory than we have. Karakura is enough for us.”

Homura frowned. “I appreciate your offer, but I really don't have any destination in mind.”

Yuzu looked confused. Karin raised a brow. “So, what? You hopped on a train to see where it'd take you?”

“I suppose.”

Karin's eye twitched. Yuzu frowned and stepped closer to Homura. She cocked her head and asked, “Why would you do that?”

Homura's first inclination was to remain silent. To pull her mysterious disappearing act and run away. But there wasn't another train to hop on and she didn't know where she was. And, as Yuzu had observed, she was tired. So tired. And those concerned brown eyes... they were the wrong color, but the expression reminded her of Mado--

“My friends were killed by a Witch today,” Homura blurted.

This was why she was so quiet these days. As soon as she spoke the words, made the whole situation real, the grief overwhelmed her careful mental barriers. Tears welled up in her eyes. She sniffed. She fought it. Tried to stifle a sob. Trembled with the force of it.

Karin and Yuzu's eyes widened as their faces paled.

Homura clenched her fists so tightly her nails bit into her palms. “They went to fight it without me. When I got there-- when I got there--” _The thing that had been Sayaka had killed her best friend, Madoka had been a macabre rag doll, and Kyoko had begun a form of self-immolation._ And here she had thought she had hardened her heart against the miserable fates of everyone but Madoka. She had been fooling herself. Still, though Sayaka's fall and Kyoko's sacrifice hurt, Madoka's umpteenth death was agony. Tears ran down her face and she sobbed once. Homura pressed her hands over her mouth and bent toward the ground to hide her face. She heard a few quick footsteps then found herself wrapped in a warm embrace.

“I'm so sorry,” Yuzu's voice wobbled. Homura could feel the other girl's wet cheek press against her ear. A girl she had just met was crying for her. “That's horrible. That must-- that must-- you must feel--Oh, I'm so sorry.”

The two girls held one another and cried for a few minutes while Karin hovered nearby, awkward and concerned and trying not to think of what she would do if she ever lost Yuzu to a Witch. The crying girls were oblivious to a security guard whose patrol took him near them. He eyed the girls then raised a brow at Karin in search of an explanation.

“Uh, our... friend, ah, got some bad news. Um, a death. So we're...” Karin shrugged and looked at her sister and the stranger helplessly.

The security guard's face went solemn. “Ah.” He glanced at the schedule board clock. “If you'd prefer privacy, you might want to find a more out-of-the-way place. The last of the commuter trains from up north will be showing up soon.”

“Oh, uh, thank you, sir.” Karin sketched a quick bow and bit her lip. After the guard moved on, she stepped forward and gently took both girls by their shoulders. “Come on, let's go somewhere else.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .  
> ?????  
> ?????  
>  Minion: Jakob, whose duty is to keep everything on schedule.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Con/crit welcome. I love reviews. Bonus points if you figure out what two things the original witch's familiar (and eventually the witch herself) are referencing.


	4. DREI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Totally making up where Mitakihara is located for plot convenience, but referring to canon maps for where Karakura and Naruki are. Totally making up how the train scheduling runs based on how I remember commuter trains in Southern California running. I do what I want~

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**DREI**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Yuzu sniffled and hooked her arm in Homura's to guide her along behind Karin as they left the train station. For once, Homura passively allowed herself to be led. Somehow they ended up at a park bench under a street lamp near some vending machines. Yuzu sat on the bench with Homura and fussed over her while Karin fetched drinks for them. When Homura had calmed enough to hold her drink, the three sat in silence and watched the fluttering shadows of moths as they drank.

At length, Karin stood up and focused on Homura, face hard and angry, eyes betraying her more tender emotions as she brandished a fist. “Do you need any backup to nail that Witch?”

Homura looked up in surprise. Both girls were staring at her with fire in their eyes, angry on her behalf as though the death of any magical girl was a grave offense even if they had not known the deceased. It was heartwarming and disgustingly naïve at the same time.

Homura sat straighter and absently brushed the tears from her cheeks, regaining her composure. When she felt she could speak in an even voice, she coolly replied, “That won't be necessary.”

Both girls frowned hard.

“Hey,” Karin snapped, “if it got your friends when they were working together, how do you think you're going to handle it by yourself?”

Yuzu looked like she wanted to scold Karin but couldn't really disagree with her. She fisted her hands in her uniform skirt. Worried, she implored Homura, “Please let us help you. It must be a dangerous Witch if it defeated your friends. If we work together, we can make sure it doesn't k-kill any more magical girls who try to fight it.”

Homura tossed her hair over her shoulder and smoothed her skirt. “No, really, that won't be necessary.” As the girls began to object again, she curled her free hand into a fist then opened it to reveal the Mermaid Witch's Grief Seed. The two girls snapped their mouths shut.

“You got it?” whispered Karin.

“No,” Homura said dully. “When I got there, my... my best friend was dead, and... my other friend hit the Witch with a suicide attack. The labyrinth was gone before I could do anything.” Instead of looking at the girls, she stared at the Grief Seed. Its silver musical staff against its onyx center had a simple elegance. Homura vaguely noted that she had never heard the music made by the boy Sayaka had traded her soul for. She wondered if hearing him play would make her want to break his hands. He complicated the timelines so much sometimes.

The gravitas of the moment was interrupted by the most annoying ringtone Homura had ever heard. She looked up and found Karin rummaging about and pulling out her phone. “Ah, we're late, Goat-Face is probably looking for us.” She fiddled with the device and read the text message. Her eye twitched in irritation. “God, why so many emojis? And... fifteen question marks? Ugh.” She lowered her voice and muttered to herself, “Achievement unlocked. I need to find a more annoying ringtone to match.” The device trilled again. Karin bared her teeth. “Oh my God, _yes_ , I'm replying, shut up!” Her fingers danced over the touch screen as she growled.

Homura stared at Karin strangely. “Goat... Face...?”

Yuzu laughed awkwardly. “That's what Karin calls our dad. He's... kind of eccentric.”

“Pshh. Understatement of the century,” grumbled Karin.

Homura raised her eyebrows. “You're sisters?”

Yuzu grinned. “Yep! Karin and Yuzu Kurosaki, Twin Champions of Love and Justice!” She struck a pose, holding a V-for-victory sign over an adorable wink.

Karin rolled her eyes powerfully. “We aren't characters on _Sailor Moon_ , Yuzu.”

Yuzu pouted. “But you're the Mars to my Venus! We even have the right colors!” She glanced aside and mumbled, “Close enough.”

Karin scoffed. “If I was Sailor Mars I'd go all Medieval and burn the Witches with a snap so I could have more time for important things like playing video games and siccing crows on Goat-Face.”

Yuzu's pout turned childishly grumpy. “You're no fun, Karin.”

“Whatever.” Karin smirked slightly as she slid her phone back into her pocket. “We'd better get going before Dad comes looking for us in ridiculous pajamas or something.”

The playful banter was a bit distant for Homura. All she could think was how cruel the Incubator was to rob a family of not one daughter, but two. As if she needed any more reasons to hate that monster.

Yuzu sighed affectionately and stood up. She bit her lip and turned to Homura. “Do you have someplace to stay-- uhhh--” Her eyes went wide and she held a hand in front of her face and gasped. “Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't ask your name!”

Still half wondering which tragic fate would befall the twins and what manner of hole they would leave in their family, Homura distractedly answered, “Homura Akemi.”

Yuzu smiled and bowed cheerfully. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Homura!” Her face dimmed. “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

Karin inclined her chin. “Likewise.”

Homura sighed softly. “It can't be helped.” She stood and straightened her uniform.

“So, do you?” Yuzu fidgeted. “Have somewhere to stay tonight, I mean?”

“No. Where am I?”

“You're in Karakura. Little place west of Tokyo. We were at Old Karakura Train Station, not far from Naruki City.” Karin scratched her head. “Where are you from, O Rider of Rails?”

Homura frowned. She was really quite far from home. Though, that had been the slap-dash plan, she supposed. Really should have thought it through more. She sighed in frustration and absently answered, “Mitakihara,” as she considered her options.

The twins' eyes went round. “That really nice city with all the pretty buildings?!” gushed Yuzu.

“The fancy city way up by Sendai?!” Karin screeched.

Homura glanced at Karin. “Closer to Soma, really.”

“Because that's _so_ much closer.” Karin pressed a palm to her face. “There won't be any more trains up that way until morning.”

Homura pursed her lips. “I'll be fine. I didn't intend to return immediately anyway.”

Yuzu was the picture of innocent concern as she asked, “Homura, won't your parents be worried?”

Violet eyes glanced away from the twins. “I live by myself. No one will miss me.”

“But your friends--!”

“My friends are dead.”

“Your other friends--”

“I have no other friends.”

There was a long silence, finally broken by a sniffle. Homura glanced back at the twins and found Yuzu tearing up again and Karin looking... defiant?

Yuzu scrubbed an arm across her eyes, swept forward, grabbed Homura's hands in her own, and stared her down with a determined face. “You have us.”

Homura blinked in surprise. “What?”

“She said you have us.” Karin put her hands on her hips and glared at Homura. “We may have only met tonight, but we're in this together.”

Homura stared at them in bafflement. “But--”

Karin nonchalantly waved off Homura's objections. “You're a fellow magical girl. And you're not attacking us, plus you seem to have been close enough to a team of magical girls to care about them dying. You're not one of those cold magical girls. You're one of us, and we take care of our own.”

Guilt flooded Homura. She hadn't been part of a team. Not in this timeline. She had been cold to everyone. Distant and not particularly helpful. Homura shook her head slowly in disbelief. “You don't know that. What kind of person I am. Don't know me--”

Yuzu squeezed Homura's hands again and looked her in the eye. “You care enough about other magical girls to cry for them. You were polite about coming into our territory. You didn't attack us while our backs were to you. You could have stayed in Mitakihara and taken control of the territory your friends held, but you didn't. You could have killed us before we even knew you were there, but you didn't. That's enough for us.”

Homura just stared.

Yuzu released Homura's hands, stepped back, and struck a thoughtful pose. Then she nodded decisively. “You're coming home with us tonight,” she declared.

“What?”

Karin snorted. “As if we'd let you sleep under a bridge after the day you've had.”

“I couldn't-- You're kind, but really--”

Yuzu's cheerful face went serious again. “Homura, there's a tricky Witch on the loose. It's dangerous to wander around when you're tired and lost.”

Karin regarded the new girl from heavy-lidded eyes and darkly added, “Besides, Witches aren't the only danger in Karakura.” She bit her lip and looked speculative. “We have Hollows here.”

Homura stared at Karin intensely, confused and wary. “What is a Hollow?”

Karin's face shifted. It was an odd expression that Homura didn't like one bit. It said that Karin had half expected her answer but that she wasn't particularly happy with it. Karin sighed and ran a hand through her bangs. “It's late. I'll explain tomorrow.” She eyed Homura's disapproving scowl and relented. “The short explanation is they're kind of like Witches who don't hide in labyrinths.”

Homura stared. That... would be terrifying. The only Witch who Homura knew didn't bother with a labyrinth was Walpurgisnacht. Questions swarmed her mind. She startled slightly as Karin flicked a finger against her shoulder.

“Tomorrow. Promise. Right now we need to get home before the old man comes looking for us.”

Homura frowned and allowed the change of subject. “How are you going to convince your father to let a stranger stay in you house?”

Yuzu smiled conspiratorially and winked. “Let us handle Daddy. He doesn't need to know you're a stranger and he let my brother have a girl stay with us a couple years ago. It shouldn't be too hard,” she chirped.

“You won't even need to make up a sob story like Rukia did.” Karin pulled her phone out again and pulled up a web browser. “Just tweak the truth a bit. Dad's a goofball so even if he does think to look up the news in Mitakihara you should be good as long as your story is vague enough to not contradict anything he finds.” Nimble fingers tapped out _mitakihara news_ in the search bar. A few taps later, Karin's eyebrows jumped up. “It looks like some girl named Madoka Kaname didn't show up for school and has been reported missing? And a friend of hers who was missing was found dead... in a hotel room? Um, Sayaka Miki? And there's another girl who's been missing longer than either of them? Mami Tomoe.” She looked up. “Are any of those your friends?”

“All of them.” Homura's voice was heavy. “Mami was eaten by a Witch almost three weeks ago. They won't find a body. Sayaka contracted after Mami died. She... didn't handle it well.”

Karin frowned. “How did her body end up in a hotel?”

Homura closed her eyes. “That was probably Kyōko's doing. She didn't want to believe we had lost Sayaka and...” she trailed off with a shrug, emotionally exhausted. “It's complicated.”

“Hmmmm? I don't see anything about a Kyōko in the news.”

Homura sighed. “You wouldn't. Her family is dead. There's no one to report her missing. She died in a labyrinth so no one will find her body, either. Madoka has a family, so she'll actually be missed.” She couldn't help thinking of a handful of timelines in which she had gone to Madoka's house and met her loving family. Her parents would move heaven and earth to find her and never be successful. “She also died in the labyrinth, so she'll never be found.” _It will be different next time_ , she told herself.

Yuzu looked horrified. “You... you lost four friends in three weeks?!”

Homura hummed slightly in confirmation.

Yuzu's face crumpled as she teared up again. “That's too cruel. That's-- that's--” She stepped forward and hugged Homura again. Homura passively accepted the hug, but didn't respond to it.

Karin cleared her throat, eyes glassy with unshed tears, face grim. “Well, we'd better get going. We'll work on the cover story on the way and talk more tomorrow. Come on.” She turned away and glanced over her shoulder. Yuzu looped her arm through Homura's again and gently guided her forward. Homura followed with halting steps.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Homura, get used to being railroaded by Kurosakis. No one can resist them LOL.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	5. VIER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews.

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**VIER**

**TIMELINE X + N**

The three girls meandered through the night, the twins quietly conspiring between prodding Homura for information to flesh out their story. Finally satisfied with their cover, the twins led Homura to a quaint neighborhood clinic that was closed for the evening. Homura was confused until the girls coaxed her to go around the clinic to access the house to which it was attached, which was dark save for the downstairs. Yuzu fished out her keys as they approached the door.

“Homura, I apologize in advance for any shenanigans you experience in this building,” drawled Karin. “I think our father was dropped on his head as a baby or something.”

Yuzu laughed awkwardly. “He can be... overwhelming, if you're not used to him.”

“He's like a hyperactive puppy who _lives_ to embarrass us.”

Homura eyed the door warily as Yuzu opened it and entered. Karin waved for her to go next.

Yuzu cheerfully called out, “Daddy, we're ho--”

Karin and Homura peered around Yuzu to see what had made her stop.

“Oh, for the love of God,” groaned Karin. “Where do you think you're going in that?!”

Homura was at a loss for words. Before her was a tall, burly man with spiky black hair and stubble not quite thick enough to be called a beard. He wore what she assumed were pajamas-- a tight black t-shirt with a faded faux tuxedo printed on it in white and loose light blue pants with... lobsters. Lobster-print pants. Okay. A flashlight and a cell phone were jammed into his right hand. He stood on one foot. His left hand was in the process of pulling a plush Totoro slipper onto his free foot. He stared stupidly at the girls for a moment. Then he dropped the phone, flashlight, and slipper, teared up, and loudly declared, “I was going to go looking for you! You were gone so long! I thought my darling daughters had been kidnapped!” The man the launched himself at his daughters, arms wide for a hug.

Karin dodged inside his guard, planted her hand on her father's face, and redirected him toward a wall. “I texted you like fifteen minutes ago, Goat-Face,” she grumped.

The man pulled away from the wall and looked over his shoulder at Karin. Melodramatic tears dribbled down his pouting face. “Daddy was worried!”

“We're big girls now, Daddy,” Yuzu chirped.

“You'll always be my babies!” Isshin wailed.

Yuzu giggled uncomfortably. Karin rolled her eyes and sighed. “Can you please behave like a rational adult in front of our friend?”

The man blinked away his tears in an instant and whirled away from the wall, seeming to notice the third girl for the first time. He gasped. “You brought home a friend!”

“That's what I just said.”

Homura stepped forward and primly bowed. “I am Homura Akemi. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kurosaki.”

Isshin casually bowed his head and waved. “It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Miss Akemi.” He scratched his chin and eyed his daughters speculatively before looking back to Homura. “Do your parents know you're here this late?”

“I live by myself right now. My uncle is often away on business.”

“I see.” Isshin looked from one of the girls' faces to another. “Are you girls having a sleepover? It's a school night.”

“Um, kind of,” said Yuzu. “Can Homura stay with us for a night or two? Some bad things have happened at her school and some weird things are happening in her city and she...” Yuzu trailed off and looked at Homura somewhat helplessly.

Homura bowed her head slightly and looked at the floor. “I didn't want to be there. And I didn't want to be... alone.”

Isshin frowned in concern. “Which school is this? And what kind of things? What city? Wait, how did you three meet?”

“I attend Mitakihara Middle School.”

Isshin's eyebrows jumped toward his hairline. “Mitakihara?!”

“She moved up there this year,” said Yuzu. “She used to go to a school in Tokyo. Karin and I met her on our class trip to the botanical gardens in sixth grade.”

“We kept in touch on the internet,” Karin continued. “She's been telling us about some freaky stuff going on in her town lately.”

“What freaky stuff?” Isshin asked Homura.

Homura clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt and grimly met his eyes. “A week ago, a classmate and over a dozen other people woke up in a warehouse in the middle of the night. The authorities suspect mass hallucination, but it's strange. A few days ago, a classmate went missing. Today my friend didn't come to school. Now they say she's missing, and someone found the first missing girl's body in a hotel room. And now they're saying that a girl from the next grade up has been missing since before the 'hallucination' event.” She twisted her skirt in white-knuckled hands. “It seems like someone is doing things to the girls at my school. I don't want to be next. And I don't want to see Madoka and Sayaka's empty seats.” She glanced down and to the side as though embarrassed. “It sounds kind of stupid now, but I wanted to get away so I just got on a train and rode. I recognized the name Karakura when they called out the stop and I got off.”

Yuzu took over. “That's when she texted us for help. So we went to the train station and got her. And we talked for awhile and it got late.”

“Sorry we didn't call you, Dad, but she was really upset and we totally forgot,” Karin offered with a shrug.

“So can she stay with us, Daddy? Please? It sounds so scary.”

By then, Isshin's face had completely morphed into that of a seriously concerned parent, all silliness put aside. _Rather like a mask_ , Homura thought. He frowned and stared hard at Homura. For her part, Homura allowed her own mask to slip slightly under his scrutiny, let him glimpse the hurt beneath the exhaustion.

After a long pause, Isshin scratched his head and shifted slightly, still frowning. “Does anyone know you're here?” he asked Homura.

“No, sir.”

After a moment he nodded. “You can stay as long as you call your school to report your absence in the morning. What you tell them is your business. I just don't want you to be reported missing, too. It would be cruel to your teachers and classmates and unhelpful for the police while they look for your friends.”

“Yay! Thank you, Daddy!” Yuzu cheered. She threw herself at her father for a hug. The loud goofiness immediately returned.

“Ah, my little girls are such good friends! MASAKI, OUR DAUGHTERS ARE GROWING UP TO BE SUCH KIND YOUNG LADIES!” He started bawling as he swung a squealing Yuzu around. “DADDY'S SO PROUD!”

Homura and Karin stared, Homura uneasy and Karin bored but blushing slightly.

Yuzu soon whirled away from her father and clapped her hands together. “Homura! I'll make you something quick for dinner, then a big breakfast in the morning!”

Homura blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Thank you, but that won't be necessary.”

Karin frowned. “You were on the train for hours. When's the last time you ate?”

Homura opened her mouth, paused, thought back, and frowned. “I don't know.”

Yuzu's face became more determined. “You must be starving. I can give you leftovers while I whip up something else to fill you up.”

“Please don't trouble yourself,” Homura demurred. Then her stomach betrayed her with a quiet growl.

Yuzu's face turned fierce, eyes commanding. “I'm making you dinner _and you are going to eat it_. Do you understand?”

This would have made the old Homura stammer and blush and generally fumble in mortification as she rushed to obey. This Homura merely gaped silently for a moment before nodding slightly.

Yuzu's face instantly slid back into good cheer. ( _Like father like daughter?_ Homura wondered.) “Great! I'll get started!” She turned and trotted down the hall, humming happily and randomly saying ingredients aloud. Homura just blankly watched her go.

Karin patted Homura's shoulder. “Good call. She's all cute and nice but she can be the scariest of all of us sometimes.”

“So much like her mother,” sniffled Isshin, reminding the girls of his presence. “MASAKI, OUR-- OOF!”

Karin withdrew her foot from her father's midsection. “Can you not start howling every five minutes, Goat-Face? Geez.”

“So much... like my cousin,” wheezed Isshin.

Karin rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “Whatever. Come on, Homura, I'll reel in Yuzu and keep her from cooking you a midnight banquet. You must want to sleep.” She grabbed Homura's hand and half-dragged her down the hall.

 _What have I gotten myself into_ , Homura wondered dully.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Isshin is so fun to write. The cousin he speaks of is Kukaku. I haven't decided how much the girls know about the Shibas. In this continuity there is no Quincy invasion, but Isshin told Ichigo the backstory from Everything But the Rain. In this story I presume the girls know some of the shinigami stuff because at the end of the Xcution arc they are seen welcoming Ichigo back to the World of the Living. It's an anime-only thing but I like it and it is convenient so there.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	6. FÜNF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews. And yes, I know it's kind of a slow build with small chapters. I'm setting up my chess board and establishing who knows what. I'm trying to do so in such a way that people who aren't super familiar with one of the canons can make sense of things. Also, I'm showing what each storyline looks like through the lens of the other canon.

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**FÜNF**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Isshin stood in the foyer for a few moments and watched the three girls disappear into the kitchen. He stood and listened to his daughters bicker over what constituted a reasonable amount of food for their guest while the new girl remained silent. It was sweet, but he frowned hard.

His girls were lying to him and trying to play him. He didn't know what about specifically, but it worried him.

What worried him more, though, was the strange girl's high reiatsu and the way a Hollow reiatsu clung to her. Up close, he could feel Homura's own reiatsu gradually sloughing off the taint, but it was strong. And her face... It had been apparent that both Homura and Yuzu had cried hard earlier in the night, eyes red-rimmed and dried tear tracks on their faces. Both his girls had been quietly riled up and ready to argue with him to secure a place to stay for the girl. Then, for a moment when the new girl looked him in the eye, he saw genuinely painful grief and helplessness. How could he deny her help?

He didn't know what part of their story was a lie, but he knew that the girl's grief and fear were real. She was exhausted and hurting, Hollow reiatsu clung to her like lingering mud, girls were allegedly disappearing and dying, and his daughters had some level of involvement. It was as if he was seeing just the tip of the iceberg, the signs that something sinister was happening beneath the surface.

After another minute of thought, Isshin pasted a goofy expression on his face and pranced into the kitchen. He hummed obnoxiously as he got a cup and filled it with water, glancing toward the girls. Yuzu was industriously throwing things in a pan as if it had offended her while a hesitantly sympathetic Karin served a lost-looking Homura a plate of reheated leftovers from the family's dinner earlier in the evening. The poor girl seemed to be too exhausted to guard her expression anymore, face wavering as though she couldn't decide whether to eat the food, scream and throw it, or fall asleep in it. It hurt to watch. Isshin saw echoes of his bereaved nine-year-old son staring at his food after being dragged home from the riverbank where his mother had died.

Every fatherly instinct Isshin had screamed that something was deeply wrong and the girl was caught up in something far over her head.

Isshin temporarily tucked his concern away and swung the fridge door shut with a flourish. “Well, girls, Daddy's off to bed! I'll be up for awhile reading the new medical journal, though, and you can always get me if you need me, okay?”

Karin waved him off halfheartedly while Yuzu cheerfully wished him good night. Homura simply sat straight and stared at him as though not really seeing him. Isshin frowned at her in concern and gave her a small nod to wish her good night but she just stared.

Isshin took his water upstairs and climbed in bed with his laptop. He pulled up a window with his medical journal and scrolled down to a random point, then opened an internet browser to begin his own amateur investigation. Calling up the news sites for Mitakihara was the easy part. As a father, reading the results grew difficult.

\-----

**MISSING SCHOOLGIRL FOUND DEAD IN UPSCALE HOTEL ROOM**

_April 21 20XX 06:13 PM_

Sayaka Miki (14), the Mitakihara Middle School second year who has been missing since April 12th, was found dead this evening by security staff at Hotel Nikko Mitakihara. The police have released a statement indicating that the girl's death appears to have occurred sometime within the preceding 24 hours, though the cause of death is as yet undetermined. More details may be released following an autopsy.

_Updated April 21 20XX 06:47 PM_

The girl is said to have appeared clean and in good health with no injuries on her person and no sign of struggle in the hotel room. Police continue to process the scene, which anonymous sources indicate appears normal save for a number of bags of food from various convenience stores and fast food restaurants. The investigation will continue through the night.

_Updated April 21 20XX 07:49 PM_

A girl who sources say is friends with Sayaka Miki has been reported missing by her parents this evening. For details, see our article here (link)

_Updated April 21 20XX 08:52 PM_

A press conference is tentatively scheduled for 10:00 AM tomorrow.

 

**FRIEND OF DEAD SCHOOLGIRL REPORTED MISSING**

_April 21 20XX 07:46 PM_

Junko and Tomohisa Kaname report that their daughter, Madoka (14), did not return from school today. Mitakihara Middle School reports that Madoka Kaname was recorded absent from classes today. Her disappearance is particularly troubling in light of the disappearance and subsequent discovery of her close friend Sayaka Miki's body this evening.

Mr. and Mrs. Kaname cite a phone call to another of their child's friends to indicate their daughter was last seen on her usual path to school. The friend said the missing girl appeared troubled and suddenly decided to go home instead of continuing to class. She never made it home. Kaname was last seen running north from Mitakihara Middle School around 07:45 AM. She was wearing a Mitakihara Middle School girls' winter uniform with white stockings and her pink hair was tied up in two pigtails with red ribbons. Anyone who thinks they have seen her or has any relevant information is urged to call the Mitakihara Municipal Police at XXX-XXXX.

 

**SCHOOL OFFICIALS REPORT THIRD MISSING GIRL**

_April 21 20XX 08:14 PM_

At the request of investigators, administrators scoured records at Mitakihara Middle School for attendance anomalies relating to the mysterious disappearances of Sayaka Miki (14) and Madoka Kaname (14). Concerned administrators expanded their examination to the entire student body out of an abundance of caution. To their unpleasant surprise, they discovered that third year student Mami Tomoe (15), an emancipated orphan, had not attended classes since April 4th, predating Sayaka Miki's disappearance by eight days. When calls to her home went unanswered, police were dispatched to her apartment. The door was found to be unlocked. Sources report that there was no obvious sign of foul play, though the scene has yet to be processed in depth. One source indicates that the apartment appears abandoned. Officials are submitting her photo to local hospitals in hope of finding that she was admitted without identification. Tomoe's last known whereabouts are yet to be determined. She has blond hair which she usually wears in two curled pigtails decorated with flower hairpins. Anyone who thinks they have seen her or has any relevant information is urged to call the Mitakihara Municipal Police at XXX-XXXX.

_Updated April 21 20XX 08:42 PM_

An anonymous law enforcement source claims that physical evidence of a tie to the newly missing Madoka Kaname (14) (link) was found in Tomoe's apartment. Mitakihara Municipal Police Department spokesperson Kuroe Mura declined to comment, citing the investigation in progress and promising a news conference sometime tomorrow morning.

\-----

Isshin sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face, then held his chin and stared at the articles and the school ID photos of three girls smiling out at him. He vaguely noted the timestamps. Something didn't add up, but he was too tired to spot it. Sighing in temporary defeat, he shut his laptop and settled down for the night.

Sleep was a long time coming. What the hell had his daughters gotten involved in?

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Papa!Bear Isshin is on the case.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	7. SECHS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews.

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**SECHS**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Waking up somewhere completely new was strange for Homura. She had become so accustomed to endlessly repeating the same events with the same people in the same setting that change was a surreal novelty. So here she was, drowsily sitting on the spare futon that had been dragged into the girls' room from their absent brother's closet, squinting at the clear sky outside the window while the Kurosaki twins got dressed. Weird.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Madoka was dead again.

Yuzu pulled on her uniform swiftly and called out that Homura could look through her closet and dresser for clothes as she hurried out the door. A sleepier Karin made the same offer. Fifteen minutes later Homura followed Karin downstairs to the kitchen, wearing one of Yuzu's dresses. Yuzu turned from the stove to greet them and cooed over how cute Homura looked in her dress. Karin and Homura had just sat at the table when Isshin burst into the room dressed like a responsible adult, complete with lab coat and tie.

“GOOOOOD MORNING, GIRLS!” he cheered.

“Good morning, Daddy!” bubbled Yuzu.

“Mornin',” mumbled Karin.

Homura stared for a moment, then bowed her head respectfully and quietly said, “Good morning, Mr. ...Dr. Kurosaki.”

Sitting down to a hot, fresh breakfast was another oddity for Homura. She was no longer sure how many times she had relived six weeks of her life, but surely it had been years. After the first several variations on disaster, she had been reduced to eating leftovers from the takeout she got for dinner on the way home from various fights and weapons heists. The sheer normalcy of sitting around a table while a family chattered pleasantly was disturbingly abnormal. It all felt quite distant to her, but she also presumed she wouldn't have anything like this in the next timeline so she had better appreciate it while it lasted. Conversation had always been terribly awkward for her so she didn't even try to participate, but she could easily savor food in silence. Homura was grateful that the odd collection of cheer, sarcasm, and buffoonery somehow seemed able to gauge her mood with small glances and accordingly fall into easy banter around her without trying to draw her in. She felt free to stare out the window and let their voices wash over her as she ate. Some part of her niggled that she was being a terrible guest, but the majority of her didn't particularly care.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the Kurosaki family was happy, and Madoka was dead again.

Karin set down her empty glass. “Hey, Homura. It's Friday so we'll be at school all day. We'd ask Goat-Face to let us ditch and hang out with you but the first chapter tests for a few classes are today. Then we have a half day tomorrow-- maybe we could ditch that?” Karin glanced at her father, who made a skeptically considering face. She dropped the subject to pick up later and looked back at Homura. “We have a lot of video games and books. We don't mind if you use them.”

Homura hesitated, confused that Isshin hadn't scolded Karin for calling him Goat-Face right in front of him. Once upon a time, her father would have lectured-- She forcefully smothered that train of thought.

“She could also help in the clinic if she wants,” Isshin suggested between bites. He looked to Homura. “Nothing big, just refilling the supplies in the exam rooms when the delivery comes in, maybe watch the waiting room while I'm with a patient.”

Homura stared at him in surprise.

“You don't have to,” he continued. “I just figured I'd give you another option for keeping busy if games or books don't distract you enough. Waiting for news must be terrible.”

Homura looked down at her lap, hunching her shoulders with the weight of guilt. She already knew what had happened and that it would never be figured out. All because she had been too slow to realize that Madoka's loving heart would drive her to the Mermaid Witch's labyrinth even if she wasn't contracted. Homura had been so late to the scene that she couldn't even retrieve Madoka's body so she could have a proper funeral. Gritting her teeth and wringing her skirt, she kept from crying by sheer force of will. _(It will be different next time, it will be different next time, it will be different next time.)_ After a moment she gave Isshin a general nod of agreement. Any distraction would be welcome.

Isshin watched her for a long moment as he sipped his coffee. He nodded as if the matter was settled and stood. “Right. We'll call your school after I see the girls off and go from there.”

“Oh! Is it already that late?!” gasped Yuzu.

Karin smirked. “It's because you cooked such a fancy breakfast. You lost track of time.”

“Why aren't you worried?! We have a test in first period!”

Karin's eyes widened comically. She abruptly stood and shoved back her chair, tripping over herself to grab her book bag. “Shit, c'mon, Yuz, let's run!”

“Laaaaaanguage young laaaaady!” sang Ishhin. He sounded smug rather than angry.

“Shut it, Goat-Face!” Karin reappeared an the doorway, hopping as she slid on a shoe. “We'll see you later, Homura. Take care of yourself!”

Yuzu ran up and briefly hugged Homura. “We'll come straight home and then we can have some time to talk, okay?” The brunette pulled away and waved. “Have a good day, Homura!”

Homura and Isshin stared toward the door in the twins' wake for a moment before looking at each other. Isshin clapped loudly. “Well! Let's get this over with. Do you need a phone? Or need to look up the number?”

“No, thank you, sir. I have the number programmed into my cell.” Mostly because she had originally anticipated calling in sick a lot in the first timeline. After using her magic to heal herself, she had left the number on her phone for lack of any reason to remove it.

Isshin sat down with a new cup of coffee as Homura dialed her school. The phone rang unusually long before a frazzled secretary picked up.

“Mitakihara Middle School attendance office, how may I help you?”

Homura stared blankly at her plate and rolled a grape back and forth beneath one finger. “My name is Homura Akemi. I would like to call out sick for today, possibly tomorrow.”

“A-ke-mi, ah, there you are,” the secretary murmured to her computer. “And what is the reason for your absence?” she asked with dread.

“I am feeling unwell because of the stress from the disappearances. Two of the girls were in my class. One of them was very kind to me and she... the thought that she's gone...” Homura swallowed hard and controlled her voice once more. “There should be a note in my file about previous illnesses made worse by stress.” Her speech was calm and methodical. “My uncle is out of the country on business and I was... afraid... so I decided to visit some friends west of Tokyo.”

The secretary sounded worried when she asked, “Tokyo? That's so far! And if you're not well--”

“My friends' father is a doctor. I will be staying with him in his clinic today.”

“But Miss Akemi, with all that's happening--”

“I'll be supervised by a competent adult. And my uncle should have filed forms to allow me to make such decisions in his absence. I may be young but I know I'm pretty much emancipated. He only controls my finances.”

The secretary sounded uncertain. “Still--”

Isshin interrupted with a mild, “Would you like me to talk to them, Homura?”

Homura looked at him warily, then held out her phone.

Isshin cleared his throat and assumed his business persona. “Good morning, ma'am. This is Doctor Isshin Kurosaki, proprietor of the Kurosaki Clinic in Karakura. In case it is relevant, I have admitting privileges at Karakura General Hospital. My daughters brought Miss Akemi to my house last night, quite distraught. Being with my girls seems to have calmed her some, but I don't recommend throwing her into the media circus that must be around the school right now, especially when she has no one at home to support her and look after her. I thought it would be best to report her whereabouts so she doesn't get counted among the missing.”

The secretary sighed tiredly. “Thank you for that. Honestly, she's not the first to call in sick today. A lot of students and parents are worried. Rightly so, I'm sorry to say. And yes, the press is accosting students.”

Isshin couldn't see her, but he was certain she was massaging her temples or somesuch. “Shall I leave all of my contact information with you in case the school wants to check on her location?”

Homura tilted her head to one side and owlishly watched the man. It was like observing a completely different person from the one she had met the night before. She never would have pegged him as a doctor, but she could see it now. _Which is the mask?_ she wondered. Also, it was strange to hand over her personal business to someone else. It took a few moments, but she finally pinned down the unsettling feeling to it having been so long since she had actually depended on an adult for anything. Even so minor a concession of control was fraught.

Isshin eventually ended the call and stood looking at Homura searchingly. “You didn't say you had health problems.”

Homura looked surprised for a moment, then shrugged and ran a hand through her hair while looking away. “I had arthroscopic surgery to correct a heart defect awhile back. I'm perfectly fine now. Adults keep fussing over me, though. They needn't bother.”

Isshin frowned. “Adults _should_ worry over the health of children. Don't take your health so lightly.”

Homura raised her eyebrows and glanced at him. “You seem awfully invested in my health for a stranger.”

“I'm a doctor. That's my job.”

“You're not my doctor.”

Isshin's frown deepened. “Maybe not. But I couldn't call myself a father if I didn't worry about other children besides my own.”

Homura tilted her head and stared at him silently as though he was some kind of creature she had never seen before and was unsure of. Isshin met her gaze with stern earnestness until she finally looked away.

The quiet was broken by a buzzer in the distance. Both turned toward it.

“Ah, the supply delivery is here.” Isshin turned back to Homura. “Do you want to help in the clinic or would you like some time to yourself?”

She leaned toward solitude, but figured she'd end up obsessing over Madoka's many deaths without direction. “I would like to help in the clinic, please.”

“All right, then!” Isshin jabbed a thumbs up her way. “Let's get started!” He wore a small grin, but still looked serious.

Homura wasn't sure how his mood could slide around so easily. Still uncertain what to think of him, she hesitantly followed him to the clinic.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Isshin's observances and investigation and more information next time.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	8. SEIBEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews.
> 
> And today on The Muggles Aren't Completely Oblivious and Want to Know What the Hell is Happening...

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**SEIBEN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Isshin found the girl to be an efficient helper in the clinic. Her familiarity with general clinic structure and procedure was obvious in the ease with which she began tidying and arranging the rooms and supplies, avoiding that which was not to be touched without instruction. When a young mother hauled in a bawling toddler with blood all over his front from his adventures in climbing up to a medicine cabinet to play with Daddy's razor, Homura was unruffled. She had silently assisted with supplies while Isshin cleaned and sutured the boy's cheek, displaying no aversion to blood. It had seemed a bit odd, but Isshin chalked it up to the medical history she had so casually alluded to.

After an otherwise slow morning, Isshin ordered lunch to be delivered from a little takeout place down the street. Homura ate neatly but was politely distant in the face of every attempt Isshin made at conversation. He found himself amid one of the rare times when he was utterly at a loss for what to do. There were many questions he wanted to ask her, but he worried that the poor girl was barely holding herself together as it was. He had seen how she had kept herself from flying apart at the seams when he had brought up waiting for news at breakfast. Had seen her face twist and fists clench, had seen the shimmer of tears she refused to shed. Had seen, worryingly, that she felt some degree of blame. Between his time leading the Tenth Division and his time as a father, Isshin had become very good at reading behavioral cues to decipher emotions a person tried to hide. Years of ferreting out who was playing innocent-- and playing the fool himself-- prepared him to spot guilt. And Homura Akemi reeked of it. Her body language screamed of it no matter how hard she tried to stifle it. Even her unusually well-developed and well-controlled reiatsu was threaded with guilt. Isshin wondered if she was blaming herself irrationally or if there was something more behind it. He wanted to poke at what she knew, but the girl was fragile behind her cool front. Better for now that he tried to gather information independently.

When Homura claimed she didn't feel well after lunch and asked his leave to take a nap, Isshin gladly agreed. He sat tapping a finger on the clinic's front desk as he sensed her reiatsu shifting around the house. When her little cloud of gloom settled in the twins' room, he snapped open his laptop and continued his research.

\-----

BOMBSHELL NEWS CONFERENCE!

MITAKIHARA DISAPPEARANCES LINKED, SAY AUTHORITIES

_April 22, 20XX 10:42 AM_

Stunning information was revealed at this morning's press conference. Mitakihara Municipal Police Department spokesperson Kuroe Mura stated that evidence in the cases of the three Mitakihara Middle School students who have disappeared in recent weeks ties them to each other and additional suspicious activities in town.

Though initially unreported, third year Mami Tomoe (15) was the first of the girls to fail to attend class. Teachers describe her as helpful and positive, studious, yet lonely. As an emancipated orphan, she lives alone in an apartment complex. Authorities searched the apartment through the night. The living space is said to have appeared as though someone stepped out and intended to return shortly: There were dishes in the kitchen sink, a stale cake on a cooling rack, a partially-evaporated pot and cup of tea on the coffee table, and her school bag was near the table. Dates on the assignments and the age of the baked goods correspond with April 4th, the last day Tomoe is known to have attended school. Curiously, a spiral-bound notebook labeled as property of Madoka Kaname (14), the girl who disappeared only yesterday, was found neatly placed on the coffee table. Police hope to find further clues within its pages, which have no dates beyond April 4th. They say it contained some assignment lists and a large number of doodles. It has not been dismissed as unimportant, as at least five of the doodles portray a figure with Tomoe's distinct hairstyle.

“This implies that Kaname knew Tomoe before her disappearance despite never being in the same class and never having been known to meet,” said Spokeswoman Mura. “This is perhaps corroborated by Kaname's parents. They report that about a week before Tomoe's disappearance, their daughter came home late and said she had been invited to an upperclassman's home. Our working hypothesis is that this upperclassman was Mami Tomoe. What seems more ominous now is that Kaname's parents report that their daughter was tearful on the morning of April 5th. Both recall that she specifically said something like 'nothing's wrong with me, I'm alive.' Based on the timing, we are concerned that Kaname may have known something about Tomoe's case. Upon speaking with Miki's parents, we found that Miki showed similar behavior at the same time, leading us to speculate that she also knew Tomoe.”

Mura went on to detail what is known about Sayaka Miki (14), found dead in an upscale hotel room yesterday evening. Her disappearance was the first to be noticed. She and Madoka Kaname were longtime friends. Like her friend, she had no previously known relationship with Tomoe. Through March and into mid-April, she regularly traveled to and from Mitakihara General Hospital to visit a friend. Like Kaname, Miki also displayed distress on April 5th. Her behavior became erratic after her friend was released from the hospital. On April 11th, Miki's mother reports she was depressed and obviously ill. This was the first day Miki did not attend classes. She attended school on April 12th and another good friend reported that she went to a cafe with Miki after school. Sayaka Miki never went home after her last known appearance at the cafe. Authorities previously speculated that a schoolgirl rivalry discussed by the girls had caused Miki to run away, but this theory is now in question.

Miki's body was found in a room at Hotel Nikko Mitakihara now thought to have been reserved fraudulently. The online payment for the room has been traced to a prepaid credit card purchased with cash in Kazamino City. Police have requested surveillance footage from the store where it was purchased. Hotel Nikko lobby footage shows a red-haired girl of perhaps fourteen to sixteen picking up the room key on April 9th. The desk clerk is being interviewed about the transaction. Sayaka Miki does not appear on any of the tapes, so it is unclear how she came to be in the hotel room. The mystery girl is seen coming and going at odd times of day and night, often with bags of food. She is never accompanied by anyone and has not been seen since the morning of the day the body was found. Police are working on a sketch to release to the public in search of clues to this girl's whereabouts. “At this time, the unknown girl is simply a person of interest in this case,” said Spokeswoman Mura. “Considering the demographics of the other missing girls, we are also concerned for her safety.”

A forensic team is still combing through the hotel room, but a multitude of initial fingerprint collections have brought up an interesting link. The prints match those collected at the sites of two ATM “break and bust” robberies on the east end of town in the last two weeks. Considering the proximity of these crimes to the edge of town nearest Kazamino City and the purchase of the prepaid credit card in Kazamino City, Mitakihara Municipal Police Department has requested the cooperation of the Kazamino City Police Department to investigate leads and look for similar disappearances and robberies in their jurisdiction. As the collaborative investigation is new, there is nothing further to report from this angle as yet.

MYSTERIOUS “MASS HALLUCINATION” EVENT MAY BE LINKED TO DISAPPEARANCES

_April 22, 20XX 10:58 AM_

The April 5th event during which eleven people woke in a warehouse in the middle of the night with no idea how they got there is being scrutinized more closely in light of today's revelations regarding the missing girls from Mitakihara Middle School.

Two of the disappearances have a common witness: Hitomi Shizuki (14), heiress to Shizuki Architecture & Engineering CEO Katsuo Shizuki. Hitomi Shizuki is on record as the last person to see both Sayaka Miki and Madoka Kaname before their disappearances. The three are good friends who meet up to walk the last stretch to school together. Shizuki purports to have invited Miki to a cafe to talk about personal business after school on April 12th and has a receipt to prove she was there and a waitress corroborates her story that she left by herself afterward. The waitress said Miki sat at the table and stared at her food for perhaps twenty minutes before also leaving. Shizuki's testimony regarding Kaname isn't as easy to corroborate. Shizuki says that shortly after they met up and headed toward school, Kaname stopped and said she decided to stay home after all and ran away. All this would simply be a curious and sad coincidence if not for a third point of involvement.

Said heiress was one of the people found in varying states of consciousness and confusion when police were summoned to a television station by a silent alarm around 9:30 PM April 5th. The television station has been closed for renovations since mid-March. The group's initial entry to the site did not trigger an alarm as one of the people in the group was on the station's security staff and used his card to gain entry. The fingerprints of other adults at the scene were found on empty bottles of household chemicals which are deadly when mixed. The alarm was triggered by the breaking of a window. Investigation outdoors found that a bucket full of chemicals had been thrown out the pane. Whoever did this saved the lives of those inside. Authorities had isolated a set of fingerprints on the bucket, window sill, and a doorknob, but they didn't match any of the victims left on the scene. Today authorities cited the presence of Madoka Kaname's notebook in missing girl Mami Tomoe's apartment to get samples of her fingerprints from objects in the Kaname home. The samples match partial prints on the doorknob of Tomoe's apartment, which was somewhat expected. What was a complete surprise was for the database to identify the prints of the mystery savior at the television station as belonging to Madoka Kaname, who was previously not known to be involved in any way.

In light of this development, all evidence regarding the “mass hallucination event” is being reevaluated and the victims are being interviewed further. The police ask the public to please refer to their official tip site for this case if they saw anyone behaving oddly on the evening of April 5th.

When asked for a statement, Katsuo Shizuki commented with condolences for the Miki family, support for the Kaname family, and an announcement that while his family will cooperate with police, he will withdraw his daughter from school temporarily in case she is being targeted. He expresses concern that the April 5th event was a botched attempt on his daughter's life and urges the police to solve the case swiftly.

BREAKING: MISSING MIDDLE SCHOOL GIRLS SEEN IN SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE EVIDENCE IN EARLIER DISAPPEARANCE OF 6TH GRADER

_April 22, 20XX 12:53 PM_

An eagle-eyed detective investigating the April 4th disappearance of Nagisa Momoe (12) has spotted a major clue to the Mitakihara Middle School disappearances. Authorities now suspect there could be a larger problem at hand than originally thought.

Though her family is from rural Kinuma, Momoe spent considerable time visiting her terminally ill mother at Mitakihara General Hospital, which she had traveled to in order to receive treatment for pancreatic cancer. Momoe was present at her mother's death around 4:10 PM April 4th. A few minutes after her mother passed, Momoe became upset and said her mother's death was her fault. No one could calm her and she escalated to hysterically yelling that she could have made her mother get better, but was stupid. When nurses moved to restrain her, she dodged around them and ran away. Security footage shows her run into a stairwell, descend to the ground floor, pass through the main lobby, and run out of the main entrance. A camera positioned to monitor the bicycle racks shows her run into the frame and fall to her knees sobbing. To everyone's dismay, the camera went offline at this moment due to electrical problems which spread to nearby cameras indoors in the following hour. No other cameras show Momoe leave, but the outdoor cameras are focused around points of entry and the bicycle racks face an open park.

The initial search for Momoe focused within the hospital building itself. An expansion of the search did not begin until 95 minutes after she left the oncology ward. By then, Momoe could have run through the park herself or been abducted. The search has been stymied by the camera malfunction and a total lack of other evidence.

Detective Kentaro Tachibana was assigned to the sixth-grader's case on April 6th. He went over the security footage repeatedly over the last few weeks. “I just thought that maybe I had missed something and if I watched enough, I could find it and bring Nagisa home,” explained the detective.

When the pictures of the missing girls circulated the police headquarters, Tachibana felt a nagging familiarity though he had never met them. He was particularly certain he had seen Kaname. When he heard the detail that Miki had been known to frequent the hospital, he watched the security footage again on a hunch. He was stunned by what he found.

In the videos of the main lobby, Momoe is seen running down the center aisle and out the front door. In one of the camera angles, Madoka Kaname is clearly visible sitting in a chair, looking bored. Tachibana focused on this tape longer than he had previously and found that twenty minutes after Momoe left the screen, Sayaka Miki approached Kaname, who stood up and left with her. Cameras show the two exit by the front door and turn toward the bike racks. It is unknown what happened off-camera, but Kaname is spotted on a camera aimed out the emergency room entrance about ten minutes later. She is not carrying her school bag as in the tape immediately before and is running.

Kaname reenters the ER camera about forty minutes later. She is running back the way she had come. Following her is Mami Tomoe, verifying that the two did know each other and establishing Tomoe's last known location. None of the girls appear in any subsequent camera footage, causing authorities to speculate that they left by way of the park.

“This is a major break,” says Mitakihara Municipal Police Spokeswoman Kuroe Mura. “Many threads are gathered together in one place. However, this also raises many more questions.”

One new curiosity centers on Tomoe's school bag. She is plainly carrying it in the video. However, it was found in her apartment weeks later near Kaname's notebook. The question now becomes one of whether some or all of the girls went to Tomoe's apartment after the events in the video took place-- and whether the three girls encountered Nagisa Momoe. Authorities are reexamining the evidence gathered from Tomoe's apartment to see if they can find anything indicating Momoe was there.

One theory from a source who wishes to remain anonymous is that Kaname and Miki found Momoe, then Kaname ran to get her older friend for help. Whether they all went to Tomoe's apartment afterward or not, there is now speculation that the three middle schoolers may have interrupted an attempt to commit a crime against the younger Momoe and become targeted in turn. Tomoe had disappeared by the next day.

“If only that camera hadn't malfunctioned,” sighed the source. We can't help but agree.

\-----

Isshin frowned worriedly and scrubbed a hand over his face. No mention of Homura, and yet... He wondered just what she knew. What she had seen or heard. Something bothered him. He scrolled through the articles he had saved the night before and focused on the time stamps. Sat up sharply and looked them over again more critically.

He had been to a medical conference in Mitakihara once. The ride by commuter train was roughly four hours. There was no way Homura could have heard about even the first news-- Miki's death-- in time to get on a train and make it to Karakura by the time she had. He did some math. The news about Kaname would have been released more than halfway through her journey; the announcement of Momoe's disappearance, not until three-quarters through her travel time. And the tie to the “mass hallucination” hadn't been released until morning.

Homura knew about it all before any of it was made public.

Given the faded Hollow reiatsu that clung to her... well. What if there was a Hollow hunting girls in Mitakihara? Homura's reiatsu was strong and controlled. She should be able to see spirits.

What if at least some of the missing girls were also spiritually aware? What if they had been trying to defend themselves, been overwhelmed, and Homura was left alone in a world of grownups who would call her crazy if she told them the truth? What if she had kept in touch with his girls from a happenstance meeting on a field trip because she found out Karin could see the same spirits she could? He knew Karin had long since learned to use her reiatsu to defeat minor Hollows. Had Homura, too, but been outclassed?

Gently, Isshin reached out with his reiatsu to gauge Homura's. It was muted with sleep, yet easier to read without her conscious control.

Grief. Resignation. Fear. Guilt. Determination. Uncertainty. Desperation. Exhaustion. Hurried, then sluggish. A tumultuous storm.

Isshin withdrew and stared blankly at his computer screen, hand covering his mouth as he leaned on his elbow and considered his options. At length, he sighed, rubbed his eyes, and picked up the phone. He completely ignored the singsong greeting when someone picked up at the other end of the line.

Still staring at the frozen image of one of the security videos, he interrupted with a grim, “Hey, Kisuke. I have something I think you should look into.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Probably back to the girls next time.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	9. ACHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews. Seriously, they warm my heart.

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**ACHT**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Karin and Yuzu had a hectic day at school. The morning full of testing was stressful enough, but they both grew anxious from lunchtime on. They sneaked off to eat their bento on the roof of the school and, by silent agreement, spent the entire period glued to their smart phones reading all the news they could find on Mitakihara. Both gradually stopped eating in favor of reading between the lines of the articles. When the warning bell rang, they started packing away their lunches and phones on autopilot, faces pale.

Yuzu turned her phone off and looked up at her sister. “This looks really bad, Karin.”

“Yeah.” Karin slid her phone into a pocket and stared blankly at the sky. “It'll be hard, but we need to talk to her. Figure out just how bad things are up there. It seems like they have way more magical girls and more Witches in Mitakihara. It's weird.”

Yuzu stood and picked up her bag. She frowned doubtfully. “Kyubey did say Karakura was backwards from a lot of places because of the Hollows.”

Karin hummed to acknowledge Yuzu's point. “And it sounds like a lot of the area's magical girls got taken out in only two weeks. And... I'm guessing those were Witch Kiss attacks? A place with enough strong Witches to pull that off... I don't like it.”

They walked to the roof access door in silence. As Karin opened the door and stepped in, Yuzu caught her sleeve. Karin looked back at her sister.

Yuzu looked troubled. “What can we do to help Homura? We can't just run away to help her defend Mitakihara. But she doesn't have anyone and she's so sad. How do we help her?”

Karin sighed and looked down. “I dunno yet. We'll figure something out. We need more information first. If we can't think of anything, maybe we can ask Kyubey. Maybe he knows about some magical girls closer to Mitakihara who can help out.”

Yuzu pursed her lips unhappily. “I don't like it.”

“Haa, that's what I just said.”

The tardy bell rang, startling the sisters into scrambling down the stairs to return to class.

§ x § x §

Homura woke from her nap around two, but didn't bother getting up. She lay on her side in the futon and stared at the storage tubs under Yuzu's bed while critiquing her performance in the current timeline. Her mind spun round and round and round, finding flaws, plucking their threads to try to figure out how to be _better_ next time. It was an all-consuming process that swallowed her time until the Kurosaki girls called out their return greetings downstairs. The cheerful sound jostled her out of her mental spiral. After a moment, Homura slowly got up and headed downstairs.

By the time she reached the main hallway, Yuzu was coming out of the kitchen and Karin had kicked her school loafers to one side and was busy putting on a pair of sneakers. Both looked up.

“Hey, Homura,” Karin said quietly. “How are you holding up?”

Homura stared for a moment then shrugged wordlessly.

Karin sighed. “I thought so.”

Yuzu looked sad and silently reached over and squeezed one of Homura's hands. When Homura looked up at her, she tried to give an encouraging smile. It came out strained.

Karin rolled her shoulders and stretched. “Put on your shoes. We need to go talk somewhere more private.”

Having expected a grilling of some sort, Homura calmly stepped forward and slipped a foot into one of her school loafers. “As you wish.”

Yuzu was about to put her shoes back on when Isshin burst into the hallway. “Girls! You're home! How was school?!”

Karin turned and directed a long-suffering grimace at the wall. Yuzu giggled awkwardly. “It was fine, Daddy. The English test was kind of tricky but I think I did okay.”

Isshin whipped his head around to look expectantly at Karin. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I think I did okay at everything, too. Math was easier than I expected. History sucked, though. Too many dates.” She shrugged. “No point worrying about it now. The damage is done.”

Isshin laughed. “Karin! Such pessimistic optimism! How do you do it?”

“Trade secret,” drawled Karin.

Isshin grinned. He glanced around at the girls and their shoes and became more serious. “Are you girls going somewhere? I wanted to talk with you three.”

Yuzu bustled in front of the other girls. “We're going to take Homura on a walk around Karakura. She's been in the house all day and we thought we could... talk. About... everything. In private. As girls. You know. If that's okay with you, Daddy?” Yuzu looked up at her father, her vulnerable _I'm-cute-and-sad-please-indulge-me_ face at full strength.

Isshin melted under the onslaught. “Yeah, yeah, that's fine. We'll talk after dinner though, all right?”

Yuzu smiled, cheerful in victory. “Okay, Daddy! I'll be back in time to cook!”

They hustled out the door with Isshin's admonitions to _be careful_ and _call me if you need me_ at their backs.

Homura followed the Kurosaki sisters through their neighborhood. She could see that both were wondering how to start. She didn't particularly care, so she left them to it until Karin finally broke the silence when they were near a park.

“So... have you been reading the news from Mitakihara today?”

“No.” Homura looked at her feet. “It would be nothing I didn't already know. I don't see any point reading about it.”

Karin frowned. “The cops are looking into it, though. They seem to think there's a kidnapper or murderer and they're looking at some of your classmates. They might question you, so you should know how to answer. It sucks, but if you answer in a way that agrees with their theories you won't draw attention to yourself.”

Homura hummed noncommittally.

Yuzu wrung her hands. “You really need to be careful, Homura. At least figure out how to explain how you know Nagisa and the other girl in case they find you with them on a security camera like with the others.”

Homura stopped and blinked in surprise, then tilted her head to one side. Faint confusion broke through her cool mask. “Nagisa...?”

The other girls stopped too. Karin raised her eyebrows. “What, you don't know her? She was the first one to go missing.”

Homura furrowed her brow. “No, Mami Tomoe was the first to go missing.”

Yuzu shook her head. “The news said Nagisa Momoe went missing the day before Mami Tomoe. The hospital had videos showing Mami, Saya...ka? And... um...”

“Madoka,” Homura supplied.

“Yes, Madoka! There were tapes showing them go toward the place where Nagisa was last seen a little bit earlier. And then no one saw Mami after that.”

Homura's face turned thoughtful. “May I see the article, please?”

Karin pulled out her phone, brought up the article, and handed her phone to Homura. The sisters watched Homura's face shift from neutral to disturbed, then grim. They were completely lost when Homura murmured, “Ah. The hospital. Her mother died. Of course,” as if answering a question.

Karin stared for a moment then swept her hands out expectantly. “Well?”

Homura set the phone in one of Karin's hands and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her cool mask was back in place. “Nagisa Momoe may or may not have been a magical girl from out of town. I didn't know of her. There was a Witch by the hospital's bike racks. Miki and... Kyubey--” God, she hated saying that _thing's_ cutesy name-- “monitored it while Madoka found Tomoe. It defeated and ate Tomoe.” She paused and carefully considered her next words. “Momoe was probably... overcome... by the Witch before the others found it. I didn't see Momoe when I fought the Witch.”

The Kurosaki girls frowned. Yuzu teared up. “That's horrible.”

Homura shrugged and stared off to one side, melancholy.

After a moment, Karin asked, “The news mentioned some unidentified redhead. Is that girl the Kyōko you told us about?”

Homura glanced back at them. “Yes. Kyōko Sakura. Her main territory was Kazamino City. She was considering taking over Tomoe's territory after her death, but Miki contracted the day after Tomoe fell. Things between Miki and her were... messy. Kyōko seemed to respect Miki at the end, though. How Kyōko went from wanting to kill Miki to wanting to save her... I don't think I'll ever know.”

They stood together in silence for a while. Eventually, Yuzu quietly asked, “Are there enough magical girls left in Mitakihara? It seems like there are a lot of Witches there.”

“I don't know of any others, no,” answered Homura. She looked off into the distance and bitterly murmured, “I'm sure... _Kyubey_... will contract more soon enough.” She briskly tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Not that new contractees will survive when Walpurgisnacht attacks.”

At first Karin thought the girl was being snobby and superior about newbies. But she watched Homura's face and hands-- the way she grit her teeth, clenched her fists, and looked generally frustrated. The pain in her eyes.

Karin squinted at Homura for a moment, then tilted her head to one side and slowly asked, “What is Wall-whatever and why do you think newbies will be cannon fodder for it?”

Yuzu looked surprised for a moment, then eagerly joined in. “Is it something dangerous? Would it help if we come fight it with you?”

Karin found the stunned look on the unflappable girl's face oddly gratifying.

For her part, Homura was suddenly blindsided by the prospect of courting the sisters as allies in the next timeline. They were amiable enough. If they were competent, veteran fighters-- and their ease in combat against the Familiar suggested such-- then-- then-- What if she could prevent Madoka-- and Sayaka, really-- from contracting, keep Mami and Kyōko alive, _and_ bring in Karin and Yuzu as backup against Walpurgisnacht?

Her mind reeled with the possibilities. It would depend on how good they were in a real fight against a Witch. She bit her lip; it would also mean putting their lives in greater danger than they already were. Then again, whether or not they knew it, they had signed their death warrants the moment they accepted the Incubator's contract. It was a moral gray area. She seemed to live in a moral gray area these days. But even if she had to learn to fight with them, study the possibilities, figure out logistics... test them against Walpurgisnacht in this timeline as a reference for the next... Maybe...

And what if the first thing she did in the new timeline was seek out Nagisa Momoe? Was she really the Sweets Witch? Had she contracted before or after Homura's reset point? Would it be best to dissuade her from contracting altogether, or to explain the risks and lead her into making a better wish than whatever one she had regretted at her mother's deathbed? Morally, it would probably be better to dissuade her, but if the girl insisted on saving her mother, maybe she could be trained well enough to help against Walpurgisnacht.

If she could wrangle all four or five magical girls into cooperating with her... and really, Kyōko would probably be the only one who had to be convinced...

Maybe the girls in other timelines wouldn't believe what she said about the Incubator, the origin of Witches, and the truth of Soul Gems, but if she simply set up Walpurgisnacht as a common enemy to be defeated without trying to convince them of anything else...

So many possibilities she had never considered.

New hope burned in her chest.

The twins looked unsure about Homura, whose face had shifted through several emotions and settled on cautious hope. Homura swallowed hard and tried to restrain her sudden euphoria. “You don't know what you're offering. Walpurgisnacht is... massive. A enormous Witch. It's a collection of pieces of many other Witches that fuse into a Witch strong enough that it doesn't need a labyrinth. It's going to hit Mitakihara in about ten days and it will be like a hurricane. And it has so many Familiars.” She pursed her lips, then heavily continued, “You could very well die. For total strangers.”

Karin crossed her arms. “Risking our lives to protect people from Witches is what we signed up for. We were aware that we could be killed when we contracted. Whether we die here or in Mitakihara, it's all the same if it's for the sake of protecting people.”

Yuzu looked more frightened than her sister, but determinedly nodded her agreement.

Homura looked at Karin sideways. “If you say so. How much experience do you have?”

Karin gestured dismissively. “Over a year. We're no fledglings. We've been flying on our own for awhile now. We get more Familiars than Witches in Karakura because of the Hollows, but the Witches that do come here are nasty tricky.”

“And we fight the Hollows, too!” chimed Yuzu. “We've had a lot of practice.”

“That, too,” drawled Karin. “The Witch we're hunting right now is a stubborn one. We only ran into it once. It's been really good about hiding since. Keeps splintering off strong Familiars. How about you help us get that one out of our hair and we'll help you with this Wall-Knocker Witch?”

Homura's face twitched terribly. She tried to say something substantive, but all that came out was a strangled “ _Wall-Knocker?!_ ”

Karin blinked, falsely oblivious. “What?”

Homura stared at her incredulously, worked her mouth as though trying to speak, then burst into hysterical laughter. Not joyful laughter, but harshly startled laughter in the face of madness. She actually looked like her own laughter frightened her. It was a brief bout, but unsettling all the same. Homura held a hand over the bottom half of her face and just looked at the ground and breathed.

The twins watched her for a long minute. At length, Yuzu quietly asked, “You were going to try to fight it by yourself, weren't you? You were going to beat it or die trying. And your friends are all gone, so without any help...” She trailed off into unhappy silence.

Homura met Yuzu's speculatively piercing eyes. It was obvious Yuzu wondered if Homura was outright suicidal or if she was simply extremely dedicated to protecting the city her friends had died for. It technically wasn't either, but the truth was too complicated so Homura chose to ignore the implied question. She straightened herself with a sniffle and brushed at her clothes.

Holding her head high, Homura pushed her hair over her shoulder and airily hedged, “I'll have to see how well you fight against this Witch of yours. You have also mentioned fighting Hollows. What are they?”

Karin and Yuzu stared at her for a moment more before simultaneously turning to one another and having a silent conversation consisting entirely of the slightest of facial expressions. They seemed to agree that Karin would take the lead.

“Kyubey said he doesn't bother explaining Hollows to most girls because they don't really show up where there are a lot of Witches. Said the vast majority of magical girls will never run into one so he doesn't see the point in talking about them.”

Oh. Another of the Incubator's “you didn't ask” topics was about to bite her. Fantastic. When would she stop running into such things?

“To explain what Hollows are... hmm.” Karin paused and stared skyward, eyes unfocused. She cast about for a moment, almost seeming to be listening or looking for something, then focused on a point in the distance before looking at Homura. “I think I need to explain something else first so it will make sense. And I want to do a little experiment. Kyubey doesn't like talking about Hollows and everything so I'm curious if other magical girls can see Pluses.”

Homura didn't bother hiding her wariness. _Things Kyubey Avoids Talking About_ could be a horror novel, in her opinion. “Experiment? And... Pluses?”

Karin waved her hands in a placating gesture. “I promise, it's just walking down a street and finding out whether or not you see something that most people can't. Pluses aren't dangerous. We actually try to help them. I wouldn't bother but if you can't see a Plus then it might change how I explain Hollows.”

Okay, now Homura was completely lost. “If you say so,” she said doubtfully.

Karin shrugged and scratched the back of her head with a sheepish grin. “Come on. It's not far.”

The twins started walking. Homura followed several paces behind them. They crossed the park, passed an elementary school, and ended up on a quiet residential street. The twins paused as if listening, then turned and entered the courtyard of an older apartment complex. It soon became apparent that they were heading for an older man whose back was to them.

“Excuse me,” began Yuzu. “Hello, Mister. Can we help you?”

The old man turned around and regarded them suspiciously. “Get out! You don't belong here,” he sneered.

“Neither do you, now, Gramps,” Karin snarled lazily.

“ _Karin!_ ” hissed Yuzu.

The man puffed up like an angry cat. “Such an impudent little--! I should--!”

“Yeah, yeah, goddamn kids, get off my lawn, whatever. We got it.” Karin rolled her eyes. “What has you hanging around, Pops?”

Anger animated his reddening face. Unable to form the words to address the unaffected brat before him, he swung an arm around and jabbed a hand at the apartment building. “That! That wreck! I told the building manager over and over that he needed to do something about the goddamn rotting guard rails, but would he listen? No! And now look at me! And what does he do? Just patches up the stretch that finally broke. Irresponsible money-grubbing slob! Us oldsters rebuilt this country and all we ask for is a rail to help us get to our little holes in the wall without breaking our necks. Can't even do that much! Ungrateful--”

Yuzu dutifully listened and nodded along to the screed while Karin zoned out and glanced at the building dispassionately. Homura just stared.

There was a hexagonal metal plate riveted into the man's chest. A long chain trailed down from it and slithered across the dry grass toward the apartment building.

A metal plate riveted into the man's breastbone. What.

She had seen many stranger things, yes, but never outside a Witch's labyrinth. Never with a person who was acting so normal. Cantankerous, but normal. Except for the whole _being riveted to a chain that tied him to a building like a dog_ thing.

Karin eventually interrupted the man's tirade about what he planned to get the building manager to do with a blunt, “You know you're dead, right, Pops?”

The old man turned to Karin and snarled, “Of course I do, you little snot! I'm old, not stupid!”

Karin lazily scratched her ear. “Sooo... how do you plan to accomplish anything?”

Yuzu pouted at Karin. Karin shrugged.

“I'll-- I'll haunt him! I'll haunt him until he fixes the place! If anyone else has an accident, we'll haunt him together!”

“Hmm, hmm, I see.” Karin nodded sagely. “He won't be able to see or hear you so that wouldn't really go anywhere. It might feel great to scare the hell out of him, but how is he supposed to link it to fixing things?”

“W-well, do you have a better idea?!” he blustered.

Karin tilted her head toward her sister and fished out her phone. “Hey, Yuz, what city department would look into stuff like this?”

Yuzu brought a finger to her mouth and pursed her lips in thought. “Hmm. City planning? No, wait-- code enforcement?”

“Sounds legit.” Karin tapped around on her phone a bit.

The man squinted at the girls suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Using the magic of the internet to file a complaint for you from beyond the grave. You're welcome. Observe my sorcery.” She started dictating aloud to herself. “Dear Pencil-Pusher. I heard this old guy I used to run into fell at his apartment complex and died. He used to tell me how terrible the safety rails and stuff were and how dangerous it was and that he was afraid he'd fall and break his neck because the landlord wouldn't do anything. When I heard he actually had fallen and broken his neck, I went and looked myself. The place looks rickety as hell and there are other old people there. Can you have a code inspector look at the place? If for no other reason than to make the other geezers feel safer. I'll attach a picture of the wreck. Thanks.” Karin snapped a quick photo and tapped the screen. “There. Happy?”

The old man was gawking. “That was the rudest-- they'll never-- you just-- you little delinquent--!”

“Whatever. It'll liven up the day of some poor bureaucratic minion. Your issue has been addressed, your earthly burden is relieved, et cetera, et cetera.” Karin flung her left hand out in front of her. Her Soul Gem flared brilliant red and manifested a katana. “Have a nice trip, yeah?” In one smooth motion, she bopped the old man on the forehead with the pommel of the blade.

“You are the most disrespectful young lady I have ever--!” The old man abruptly glowed and burst into fragments of blue light. A black butterfly wobbled around Karin's face irritably before floating up and disappearing.

Karin stared at the sky and swung her katana up to rest against her shoulder. “Jeez, what a chore.”

Yuzu looked at her sister reproachfully. “Did you really write those things in the message?”

“Pfft. Of course not. I just made a few notes so I can write something appropriate when we get home.”

Yuzu pouted. “That was mean, Karin.”

Karin shrugged carelessly and let her katana disintegrate into red sparkles. “He was mean to you, first.”

Yuzu rolled her eyes. “I'm capable of standing up for myself, Karin.”

“I know. You're just too nice to actually do it sometimes.”

“I'm getting better at it.”

Karin patted her twin's shoulder. “Yes, you are. I'm very proud.”

“Tease.”

“What just happened?”

Both twins broke off from their banter to look at Homura, who looked confused and unhappy about her confusion.

Karin looked satisfied. “So you _did_ see it.”

“What was that?” Homura was not unintelligent. This was like adding one and one, getting two, and not trusting the answer, though.

“That was a Plus,” Yuzu said with a smile. “Most people call them ghosts.”

Homura stared. “Ghosts.”

“Yep! We get a lot of them here.”

Karin smirked. “Welcome to Karakura.”

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%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: “Karin's Adventures in Konsō” could be its own omake series, I swear. *wink*
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	10. NEUN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for the reviews! (*_*) You're so encouraging.
> 
> So Karin grabbed the exposition hat and put on a fashion show, hahaha. No guarantees I'll always update this quickly. This chapter was mostly spitting out a lot of the framework I worked out to make the two canons mesh. It was just a matter of getting the girls to explain it. What they understand of it, anyway. ;)

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**NEUN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

The twins led Homura back to the park. They bought some drinks from a nearby vending machine and claimed a picnic table on a small hill. Homura sat across from the sisters and eyed them warily.

“So,” began Karin. “Pluses and Hollows.” She stared at her soda can seriously for a moment to gather her thoughts, then took a deep breath and looked up at Homura. “The fact that you have a Soul Gem means I don't have to convince you that souls are real, right?”

Homura nodded seriously. Karin looked a bit disappointed, having expected an eyeroll or something. _Tough nut to crack_ , she thought.

“Okay, so when you're alive, your soul is confined in your body by a literal chain, because evidently metaphors are too abstract for someone upstairs. When you die, your soul gets kicked out of your body and the chain breaks. Barring rare exceptional circumstances, your lifetime pass to that body is revoked and you can't get back in. Make sense so far?”

Homura nodded again.

Yuzu took over. “A lot of people... move on, cross over, or whatever name you give moving to the afterlife--”

“And there _is_ an afterlife,” interrupted Karin.

“Yes, there is an afterlife. It's called Soul Society. We'll explain that more later. Anyway, a lot of people move on by themselves. But a lot of people also don't. They have regrets, or don't want to go, or are afraid, or have unfinished business. Sometimes they died so fast that they don't know they're dead. So they wander around, or stay near a certain place that was important to them. These souls are what most people call ghosts. The chain on their chests is what's left of their attachment to their bodies.”

Karin took over. “At that point, they're still pretty much themselves. Whole. But when the chain isn't attached to a living body, it starts to disintegrate from the end.” Karin's face turned grim. “When it gets to the plate on a soul's chest, the plate dissolves, too. Things get kind of vague here. That plate is connected to this part of a soul that is called the 'heart' or 'mind'. Metaphysically speaking, I mean. I think it's clearer to say their 'humanity'. When that's gone, the soul transforms into a monster called a Hollow. Most new Hollows are mindless bundles of instinct. Their instinct is to eat other souls.”

Eyes wide, Homura asked, “Why?”

Yuzu sadly answered, “They're left with animal instinct but they can tell something's missing. They have an actual hole in their bodies that represents their missing 'hearts'. So they hurt and they're empty and all they can think to do is try to fill themselves up with Whole souls-- Pluses. But they can never fill that hole no matter how many Pluses they eat.”

“I think whoever came up with these terms was some kind of math nerd.” Karin mused. “Think of the names like Whole souls are positive integers, therefore Pluses. Think of newer Hollows as empty or zeroes. Then there is a kind of Hollow that loses itself so much it goes into negative integer territory and becomes something called a Menos. Plus-zero-minus.”

“What is a Menos, then?” Homura asked with dread.

Yuzu quietly said, “Hollows that get so hungry they start eating other Hollows. They're more powerful than normal Hollows. And the more they eat, the more powerful they get.”

“O-kay!” Karin clapped once. “So. We have ghosts wandering around, and hungry ghosts running around trying to eat the normal ghosts. Things can get pretty wild if they're left to their own devices. That's where shinigami come in.”

Homura tipped her head and looked at Karin skeptically. “You're saying shinigami are real?”

“Yep. Basically, shinigami are strong human souls. They come from Soul Society to gallivant around the World of the Living like ghost police. They find Pluses and help them cross over before they can turn into Hollows. They also fight Hollows and purify them. Most of the time, when a Hollow is purified, it goes on to Soul Society, too. Sometimes they were already monstrous enough in life that these creepy skeleton gates will pop up like the world's worst jack-in-the-box and drag their asses to Hell.”

Yuzu shivered. “I hate those gates.”

Homura stared blankly. “Hell is real, too.”

“For better or worse, yeah.”

Homura frowned thoughtfully. “Why do you get Hollows and Pluses here, then? I've never seen them before.”

Karin leaned back and took a swig of her soda. “That's because Karakura is something called a jūreichi. Basically, it's an area with a stupid-dense concentration of spiritual beings. There are a lot here to start with, so more get drawn in, on and on. Kyubey said that Witches mostly stick to areas with low... spiritual presence, I think. Witches mostly hunt normal humans. Hollows do hunt normal humans, but they're most drawn to strong souls because they're a more satisfying meal. Hollows are freakishly common in Karakura because of the whole jūreichi thing making even the people who can't see ghosts just strong enough to be extra delicious or something. A lot of people here have been exposed to the supernatural so much that they have at least some idea that weird invisible stuff is happening. Some of them may only know they suddenly feel like they should really avoid walking on a certain street or something, but they have at least some sense.”

“That's kind of what I was like,” Yuzu chirped. “Karin and my brother had always been able to see, but before I met Kyubey I could only hear some and see some blurs. And I got bad feelings about places sometimes. I got attacked by Hollows a few times. It's really scary when you can't see what's attacking you.”

Karin sipped her soda and set it down. “So anyway, just that little boost makes the people who live here some kind of delicacy to a Hollow. Kyubey said that most Witches prefer the boring, normal places because it would be more difficult to mentally snare people who have more latent spiritual power. Like... Witches' magic can kind of sneak up on most people and get a Witch's Kiss on them because they have no defenses. But someone with even a small boost in spiritual power takes more effort to snag. And you know how most Witches work-- quiet, hidden, pretty much trick people into serving themselves for dinner. Think of them... umm...” Karin scratched her head and stared skyward in thought. “Like... hunters versus trappers. Oh! If Hollows are wolves, Witches are spiders. Generally speaking. There is some crossover... wolf spiders, hahaha I _kill_ myself.” Karin grinned. “Anyway, Kyubey says that difference is why even potential magical girls are more likely to notice they've been lured into a labyrinth without getting Kissed and brainwashed.” Karin tilted her head. “Have you noticed a pattern like that? Kyubey told me about it, but I only have our experience to go on.”

Homura frowned and stared at the table in thought. She clearly remembered the moment in her first timeline when she had suddenly come to her senses in her first labyrinth, some instinct startling her out of the mental grip of the Witch that had whispered soothing death to her. Had that been an innate defense before a Witch's Kiss completely bound her? And in the current timeline, she had seen a similar result when Madoka and Sayaka wandered into the labyrinth at the mall. And again, when Sayaka and Madoka weren't ensnared by the Sweets Witch. And _again_ , when Madoka followed the flock of Witch-Kissed victims to the television station labyrinth and kept her wits about her enough to counter whatever orders the Witch had given her thralls. There had been examples in other timelines, but those were the most blatant. On some level, Homura had always noticed the pattern. She had just never questioned the _why_ of it. Little puzzle pieces shifted into place. Joy of joys, they made an answer that sparked another question.

“Yes,” Homura slowly answered after she rolled it over in her head a bit. She looked up at Karin seriously. “Are you implying there's a correlation between magical girl potential and... spiritual awareness, I think you said?”

“Mm-hmm,” hummed Yuzu. “Before you became a magical girl... well, I know you said you never saw anything, but did you ever feel anything? Did you ever walk down a perfectly normal street full of perfectly normal people and suddenly stop because you were certain something dangerous was... maybe hiding around a corner or something? Or even just felt like... like you couldn't trust your eyes when you looked at an empty space where no one was standing, and felt like someone should be there? Or someone was watching you? Things like that.”

“Especially near things like those little roadside memorials for people who got hit by a car or something. Those are dead giveaways. _Ouch!_ Yuzu! Pun not intended!” The sisters tussled for a moment.

Homura tried to think back to the time before she went to Mitakihara. It seemed so long ago now. She hadn't gotten out much before her surgery, anyway. But the more she thought about it...

“What about hospitals?”

The sisters blinked at her. “Oh, yeah,” said Karin. “Especially the bigger ones. Confused dead people can wander around in them if they don't cross over right away. My friend told me that a shinigami assigned to an area with a hospital in it is supposed to patrol the hospital at least once a week to clear them out.”

“Karin!” scolded Yuzu. “You make it sound like-- like-- sweeping up cobwebs or something.”

“Isn't it?” Karin deadpanned.

Yuzu heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You're incorrigible.”

Homura tilted her head curiously. “What friend told you about... assignments and patrols? Do you know the shinigami?”

Karin flushed and glanced at her sister, who was suddenly grinning delightedly. “Yuzu, don't you star--”

“Karin is _friends_ with a highly-ranked shinigami.”

“We're not here to talk about Tōshirō.”

“Just all the things he's taught you, right?” Yuzu's smile was a bit too placid to be called a smirk, but it was sly all the same. She looked at Homura and raised her hand to her mouth conspiratorially. “Most of the fancy explanations Karin just gave come from her asking her _friend_ the same questions.”

“Stop saying _friend_ like it's some kind of code word, Yuzu, it's creepy. And I only asked him because Ichi-nii may be smart but he _sucks_ at explaining things. And that was after I practically beat it out of him with all his 'wah wah you're safer if you don't know'.” Karin glared off to the side with a pout. “Such a waste of effort. Though I guess I can't blame him if those drawings are how Rukia explained things to him.”

Yuzu looked mildly confused. “Rukia's drawings are cute. They made sense to me.”

Karin grimaced. “Sure. Yeah. Whatever.”

Alarmed, Homura asked, “Your brother knows about magical girls?”

Yuzu choked on her soda and Karin's jaw dropped. The sisters snapped their attention back to their guest.

“What? No! No way!” denied Karin. “God, Ichi-nii would kill us, send us to Soul Society, hunt us down there, and give us the third degree all over again if he knew we contracted. Especially _why_ we contracted.”

“No, he wouldn't,” Yuzu said with a calm roll of her eyes as she wiped her mouth. “He'd just put on his disappointed puppy face and make us _wish_ he had.”

Karin considered this carefully. “Yeah, you're right. He's a total sucker for us.”

Homura eyed them both oddly. “If he doesn't know about magical girls, then what does he know and how does he know it?”

“Welllllll,” Karin hedged. “That's a long story. The super short version is: Surprise! Our big brother is a shinigami.”

Homura looked more confused. “I thought you said shinigami were... souls that came here from the afterlife?”

“Yep!” Karin took a swig of her soda.

“But... your brother is alive. Right?”

“Uh-huh,” chirped Yuzu.

“Then how...?”

“There's a long complicated story of family drama and experiments and all manner of spiritual shenanigans and dead-people politics and god-wannabe megalomaniacs, but you can summarize it as 'Ichi-nii is a freak of nature who will get stronger and do something new every time you think you have him figured out.' He was always really, _really_ strongly spiritually aware, but a few years ago his power just went off the charts and, hilarious as it sounds, he's stronger than a lot of dead people.” Karin grinned at Homura's bewildered stare. “This is our family's standard of normal. Evidently my brother even confuses and frustrates the dead guys. Tōshirō has a special twitchy facial expression just for when my brother pulls something weird. It's great.”

Homura tilted her head. “If your brother is so strong, why can't he sense that you're magical girls? Surely he must be able to tell you have power?”

“According to Kyubey, when he makes us magical girls all that happens is he focuses and concentrates the powers our souls already had. So spiritually aware people who knew us before we contracted felt our power get stronger and more controlled. It would be weird except the timing of the change is perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

Yuzu took over with a smile. “When we contracted, we were only two years younger than our brother was when his powers suddenly got stronger and he started seeing Hollows on top of Pluses. Then he got strong enough to fight. Kyubey says that like with a lot of things, girls mature spiritually sooner than boys. So us getting stronger was kind of expected.”

“Especially with our parentage,” Karin said with a smirk.

Ominous. “What about your parentage?”

“Oh, nothing much,” breezed Karin. “Just that our mom was spiritually strong enough to fight Hollows as a human and the old man is a shinigami.”

Homura froze in shock. A moment later, she sputtered, “ _What?_ B-but-- _How?_ If he's a-- a spirit, how is he a doctor here? How does he have human children? And his power-- I didn't sense...” She trailed off. Actually, she hadn't bothered really paying attention to power in anyone but the twins. The whole town was like a faint buzz of power in her senses, now that she thought about it. Isshin hadn't particularly stood out, though.

“My friend explained that,” answered Karin. “The shinigami invented these fake bodies-- gigai. If they need to blend in with the living for some reason, they possess the fake bodies. Then they ditch the body if they have to fight. When Tōshirō visits me, sometimes he borrows a fake body so I won't look nuts talking to thin air and he can help me _destroy_ other teams in soccer. He doesn't feel super strong then, either. He told me that strong shinigami have to seal a lot of their power when they come to the World of the Living and that there are special fake bodies that can seal even more. His guess is that Goat-Face has something like that.”

“Wait, your friend guesses? Didn't your father tell you about this?”

Karin snorted. Yuzu laughed. “We're waiting for Daddy to tell us. We got the basics of the situation when we got our brother to tell us about all the spirit stuff. He didn't think some of the technical stuff was important when Daddy told him and he wasn't very good at explaining some of what he did know.”

“So I asked Tōshirō, my walking shinigami encyclopedia.” Karin smiled smugly. “The old man doesn't know we know about him. We convinced Ichi-nii not to tell him. We're gonna see how long it takes him to decide to tell us and then be totally unsurprised or mess with him some other way. Ichi-nii agrees it should be hysterical.”

Homura stared at them strangely and pondered the Kurosaki family's sheer bizarreness.

“I think we got off track,” said Yuzu. “Shinigami purify Hollows by fighting them and breaking their masks with their special weapons called zanpakutō. Every shinigami-- every soul-- has a different weapon. They all start out as swords, but stronger souls sometimes change them into other weapons that match their personalities-- you know, like magical girls have. When a zanpakutō breaks a Hollow's mask... um...”

“Math again, kinda,” Karin supplied. “The shinigami is pretty much a super strong Plus. So they stab the Hollow with all their... plus-ness... and it cancels out the... minus-ness and purifies the other soul. I hope that makes sense. Shinigami also use their zanpakutō to send normal Pluses to Soul Society by stamping them with the pommel like I did earlier. When the weapon purifies a Hollow, it then also sends the purified spirit to Soul Society. It's a neat little setup.”

“So you see,” Yuzu finished cheerily, “Shinigami are to Hollows as magical girls are to Witches.”

Homura's mind whirled, connecting dots, asking questions, and generally feeling overwhelmed. _I wonder if they've followed that thought to its logical end. Or could the Incubator have told them about the origin of Witches? Do they know about it all but aren't saying anything because they think I don't know?_ She set that line of questioning aside for another time.

“You say these-- zanpakutō?” Homura said slowly. “You say our weapons are like them. If that's true, why do we have to give Grief Seeds to Kyubey? Shouldn't our weapons purify them, if the analogy holds true?”

“Kyubey said our weapons are imperfect replicas of zanpakutō,” said Yuzu.

“Tōshirō told me that shinigami get their zanpakutō by being given a blank sword that absorbs the shinigami's power over time,” said Karin. “So they're given something to focus their power as quickly or slowly as they need. Kyubey said that what he does when he makes our Soul Gems is force our souls to crystallize and focus our power by themselves-- and very quickly. So the weapons we get are approximations of what we'll get if we become shinigami when we go to Soul Society. They're just not complete in this form. Not enough to truly purify Witches.”

“Our weapons can purify Hollows, though,” added Yuzu. “But Witches aren't Hollows.”

Homura braced a finger along her jaw line, leaned on one elbow, a vague idea bubbling in her mind. Aside from something about that striking her as plain _wrong_... “If magical girl weapons work on Hollows, do shinigami weapons work on Witches?”

Both sisters shrugged.

“We don't know, and Kyubey says he doesn't know, either,” said Karin. “He said that even though Witches are similar to Hollows, they work differently enough that he's never heard of a shinigami deliberately seeking out a labyrinth the way they deliberately hunt Hollows. I'm good at math, but when he starts talking inversion this and quantum that, he loses me. It boils down to Witches being so good at hiding themselves Kyubey has never heard of a shinigami finding one. Or at least not surviving finding one. He told us that, hypothetically speaking, a strong Witch could probably trap a weak shinigami.”

Yuzu put her elbows on the table and propped up her chin. “Kyubey says that's why magical girls are so important-- shinigami can't sense labyrinths, but magical girls can. Magical girls protect people from the Witches. He said that a long time ago, the shinigami noticed magical girls purifying Hollows and helping Pluses cross over, and that it... didn't go very well.”

“He said shinigami get twitchy about living humans having shinigami-like powers,” Karin clarified, “and they were especially stabbity about it in the past-- Ichi-nii's stories back that up-- so it's a neat little bonus for Kyubey that Witches tend to avoid the more spiritually-dense areas where the most shinigami are. It helps him protect magical girls. Historically, he had to worry about protecting magical girls from the Witches, the Hollows, and the shinigami.”

“Kyubey actually took a risk contracting us,” said Yuzu. “Usually, he avoids the jūreichi wherever it happens to be at a particular point in history.”

“That's why Kyubey doesn't actually come to Karakura. We have to go out of town a ways to give him our Grief Seeds.”

“We've tried to tell him that the shinigami seem to be more tolerant now, but he refuses to approach the shinigami. He saw what happened when the Quincy-- a group of humans who were spiritually gifted enough to fight Hollows-- wouldn't obey the shinigami.”

Homura raised a brow. “And that would be?”

“Genocide,” Karin declared bluntly. “Over two hundred years ago. Ichi-nii and Tōshirō both say the hardliners in the shinigami government that pushed that agenda all got assassinated in the last war, though, and the new government hasn't gone after those survivors they know about. Since the war, anyway.”

Regret weighed on Yuzu's face. “We wish Kyubey would work with the shinigami, but we can't blame him for wanting to protect the magical girls. He said he had contracted a few Quincy girls and he saw them get killed. I guess that stays with you.”

Homura furrowed her brow, trying to reconcile what she knew of the Incubator's methods with what the twins were telling her. Aside from the girls ascribing such foreign concepts as concern to the Incubator, she could kind of see how the two angles could mesh, but would have to think on it. However...

“If Kyubey avoids Karakura, how did he contract you?”

Karin rolled her empty soda can in circles along its rim. “That's an interesting story, actually. That Tokyo field trip we're using as cover with Goat-Face really did happen.”

Yuzu smiled sadly. “We met Kyubey at the botanical gardens.”

Homura leaned forward and held her chin in her hands. She stared intently at Karin. “Tell me.”

Karin rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath, and began to tell the story.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Rock that exposition hat, Karin. Next time: Flashback!
> 
> Picture, if you will, Ichigo trying to explain shinigami stuff, panicking, and digging out Rukia's drawings to use as a visual aid. Picture that trainwreck.
> 
> Further geekery I couldn't believably fit into a teenager's explanation of Pluses-Hollows-Menos, no matter how smart I have her: In my mind, the power levels of the categories are expressed as a parabola with a positive slope at vertex (0,0). X-axis would be “degree of wholeness/hollowness” and Y-axis would be “power level,” such that the farther one goes left/Hollow, the more powerful one gets, and the farther right/Whole/Plus/shinigami-like, the more powerful one becomes. Movement to the right would be through positive means such as training and natural growth; movement left would be due to further corruption, such as Hollows eating Hollows. It's been several years since my last math class so let me know if any of that sounds off.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	11. ZEHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Let's get some action in this thing, yeah? Flashback!
> 
> The Witch in this chapter talks to the girls like the one that talked to Homura in episode ten. Talking Witches are a thing that can happen.

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**ZEHN**

**[THE SET OF ALL TIMELINES FROM (X) TO (X+N+54)] - [14 MONTHS]**

“Couldn't the class trip be to somewhere more exciting?” asked Karin. “I mean, come on. We're leaving elementary school. Reward us for not demolishing the building or something.” She sighed, one cheek puckered as she sucked on the straw of her juice box, and looked out at the sprawl of the Koishikawa Botanical Gardens. Trees were budding, bright new leaves unfurling and spreading out under the mild sunshine of an unusually early spring. Most of the trees in the arboretum were still in winter drab when seen from a distance, the swath of eerie gray-brown dotted with evergreens here and there.

“But it's interesting here! And so pretty!” gushed Yuzu. She pried apart the segments of her orange, the last item in her bento. Most of the girls' classmates were finished and wandering around now that the tour portion of the day was over.

“Hmph. I guess,” Karin conceded. “It'd be better if the cherry trees were blooming.”

Yuzu's face brightened as she swallowed a segment of her orange. “Oh! Maybe we can bring Onii-chan here for cherry blossom viewing before next school year starts! Maybe-- maybe it could cheer him up? A bit?” Yuzu looked down sadly.

Karin gnawed on her straw thoughtfully. Their brother hadn't been the same since he lost his powers over a year ago. She and Yuzu had managed to coerce the stubborn boy to explain the basics of what had happened during the entire shinigami debacle, so she understood why he could no longer see or hear ghosts-- no, Pluses-- and Hollows. Karin understood it, but couldn't help feeling somewhat bitter that the burden to win a metaphysical war fell on her brother's shoulders when there was an entire otherworldly military that was supposed to handle that kind of thing. Her friend Tōshirō had since explained some of the failures, but even he quietly admitted it was shameful. So her brother had thrown away a core pillar of his very being for the sake of something bigger than himself. That was his choice, yes, but it was painful watching him slowly list off center for lack of anything to replace that missing pillar. On some level, Karin and Yuzu both knew they couldn't fix their brother. The problem wasn't something they could change. It didn't stop the girls from trying their best to get their brother to live rather than just exist.

Ichigo was very, very good at faking contentment with his life without his powers. Perhaps good enough to fool himself. For now.

Karin and Yuzu, however, were very, very good at reading their brother.

The girls were certain he wasn't as well-adjusted as he tried to force himself to be. His brittleness was showing more with every passing month. But there was nothing to be done. The Thirteen Divisions had mostly withdrawn from Karakura, leaving the humans to help their savior pick up the pieces of his life. Mostly. Karin found herself bitter rather than furious only because she sometimes spotted different shinigami silently perched on light poles or rooftops looking just as helpless, frustrated, and unhappy as she felt as they watched her brother walk by without noticing them. If beings such as they looked so defeated when seeing her brother...

Well. Let them. Karin and Yuzu would never admit defeat.

Karin rolled the straw from one corner of her mouth to the other. “Yeah. And if he says no, we'll tell him we'll ask Dad and he'll drag Ichi-nii along by the collar if he has to, so he should come with just us to avoid that. I don't think it'll come to that, though.”

Yuzu hummed in agreement around the last of her orange. The girls stood in peaceful companionship for several minutes, quietly appreciating a nearby carefully-plotted field of early-blooming crocuses, multicolored hyacinths, and snowdrops. Then Yuzu's eyes wandered toward the treeline of the arboretum.

“Hey, Karin. Isn't that Kazuya? What is he doing?”

Karin glanced over. Sure enough, her soccer teammate's back was turned to them as he took halting steps toward the trees. He stopped at the treeline and cocked his head as though listening to something. After a few moments of listening, he walked into the trees with an oddly swaying gait.

Karin frowned in confusion. “What _is_ he doing?” She glanced around. Finding few people, she sighed and threw her empty juice box in the trash. “Come on, Yuzu. Let's fetch the idiot before he manages to get lost.”

They put their empty bento in the stack of all the other empty ones and set out for the trees, Karin marching grumpily and Yuzu smilingly looking at the flowers. They followed the path into the wood.

“Hey! Kazuya! Where are you?” Karin shouted when they were several yards in. They heard a rustle off to their right and saw the boy far off the path, shuffling through the carpet of dead leaves. “Kazuya! You idiot! Stay on the path!” Karin growled in frustration and charged off into the trees after him. Yuzu looked up and down the empty path, made an unhappy sound, and hurried after her sister.

Karin caught up with her friend and grabbed his shoulder to turn him around. “Didn't you hear me? Come ba--!” She was cut off mid-word by the boy elbowing her in the chest and knocking the air out of her. Yuzu shouted her sister's name as Kazuya shrugged Karin's hand off his shoulder.

“Stop that,” he said with the thick voice of the half-asleep. He started to wander away again.

Yuzu hovered over Karin as she panted for a moment. Furious, Karin stood up and shouted, “What the hell do you think you're doing?!”

Kazuya came to a wobbly stop. He glanced over his shoulder at them. Distractedly, he said, “I need to go to her. She's lonely.” Deeming that all the explanation needed, he turned and resumed his walk. Karin made to stomp after him, but Yuzu held her back.

“Karin,” Yuzu whispered urgently. “What was that thing on his neck?”

Karin blinked and looked at her sister in confusion. “Thing on his neck?”

“Didn't you see it? It was like a tattoo... or maybe a really big spider.”

Karin made an incredulous sound. “What are you saying?”

Yuzu let go of Karin and wrung her hands. “I-I don't know. But Kazuya isn't acting right. And he's not talking right. I think something is wrong. Something feels weird.”

Karin squinted after her friend, who was still swaying his way through the trees in the distance. “You're right. That wuss wouldn't dare hit me.” She scowled and started following him more carefully. “Come on.”

The girls jogged after the boy and carefully approached him as he stopped in a clearing. The place didn't seem to be anything special-- three big, rotted tree stumps were piled to one side. The earth was overturned over a wide area from gardeners digging up roots. Three new trees in burlap sacks were nearby, their bases supporting an assortment of shovels, hoes, and rakes. Kazuya turned to his left to dazedly stare at... nothing, it seemed. It gave the girls a chance to see the side of his neck, though.

There was a purple mark about two inches in diameter stamped on his neck like a tattoo. As the girls drew closer, they say that the main part was a solid but warped and wavy star with a small blank normal star in the center. Thin lines connected each twisted arm of the big star at their middles, implying a pentagon shape behind the star. Attached to the bottommost side of the pentagon was a small bell-like shape.

“What _is_ that?” Karin said in an undertone. Slowly, she reached toward her dazed friend and poked the mark with one finger. She barely had time to shudder before Kazuya backhanded her in the face.

“Stop that,” he said distantly. “It's my invitation.”

Yuzu expected Karin to roar at the boy and charge. Instead, Karin held her cheek and stared at her friend in horror. Yuzu's anxiety spiked. “Karin, what is it?”

“That mark. It feels like-- like a Hollow. But not really. Kinda? It's weird. It feels like-- It feels like--” Karin cast her mind back, trying to remember what it reminded her of. Something Tōshirō had taught her? Wait. Not quite. She landed on it: It reminded her of what she felt one stormy day when Tōshirō had gotten frustrated with her practicing soccer in the gale and had finally resorted to snaring her with a binding kidō so he could haul her to shelter “for her own good.” This mark felt Hollow-like and restrictive. Even barely touching it, she could feel it try to snag her, too. Some Hollow-thing had bound Kazuya.

Karin didn't waste time explaining to Yuzu. Face determined, she slapped her hand on Kazuya's neck and did the only thing she knew could break a binding like that: She flared her reiatsu until its power exceeded that in the binding and shattered it. Kazuya's eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Karin stood panting over his body, hand still outstretched.

“Karin! What happened?!”

Karin looked at Yuzu. “Something like a Hollow had him in some kind of binding spell. I broke it like I broke Tōshirō's this one time. We need to get out--”

 _That wasn't very nice_ , a girlish voice echoed in their heads.

The sisters froze and stared at one another, eyes wide.

 _He was going to be my friend_ , the voice lamented.

“What-- what's that?” Yuzu whimpered.

_It's so lonely here._

“I-- I dunno.” Karin began to feel hunted.

_You should come instead. It will be fun._

Karin glanced around. “Grab a shovel, Yuzu.”

_I'm so lonely._

“But--”

_Won't you come meet me?_

“ _Grab a shovel_ , Yuzu!”

_We can be together forever!_

Reality warped around them. They each managed to grab a shovel before the dead leaves beneath their feet sprouted violently purple grass and the air was filled with the tinkling of many small bells. Several boxwood plants burst out of the earth between the girls and Kazuya, quickly thickening into an impassable hedge as tall as a ten-story building. The girls gaped at it until startled by the sound of bells suddenly growing louder. Both turned and found that the arboretum had been replaced by a bizarre garden of gigantic flowers. Stems of lily of the valley formed an arched pathway, their dangling blossoms the size of lampshades ringing like wedding bells. Stalks of foxglove three stories tall jingled like sleigh bells in the breeze. Green fairies the size of **c** ats cavorted t **h** rough the air, jousting with over-sized s **l** otted spoons **o** f varying shapes. Chiming laughte **r** bubbled out of the **i** r bright blue frog head **s**. Normal-sized calla lilies formed a green and white carpet beneath the tree-size stalks of many differently colored daffodils, irises, and poppies. In the distance, there appeared to be a forest of towering delphiniums in vivid blues and purples. Flaming clusters of sugar cubes drifted across the pale green sky like clouds. No trace of the drab woods could be found in the riot of color.

The girls gaped and instinctively huddled together, holding the shovels defensively.

“What's happening?!” shrilled Yuzu.

“I don't know! I don't know!” Karin was entirely out of her depth. She wondered if this was what hallucinations felt like.

“How do we get out?!”

Karin cast about desperately. She turned back to the boxwood and started madly hacking at it with her shovel. Yuzu got the idea and they quickly fell into rhythm, one striking while the other drew back. The hedge grew thicker and began to push back at them. The twins recoiled.

 _You can't leave_ , the girlish voice said sternly.

“Why the hell not?!” shrieked Karin.

_I'm lonely._

“Too bad!”

_Come meet me._

Karin's anger overtook her fear. “Oh, I'll come meet you, all right,” she said darkly. Brandishing her shovel, she started to stalk down the surreal path. “Come on, Yuzu. We have to get out through _her_.” Yuzu didn't argue. She fell into step behind her sister, carrying her shovel defensively and nervously searching the jungle of flowers for threats.

They traveled through the lily tunnel safely and emerged into a wide field of many-colored hyacinths. These, at least, were of average size. Their perfume was overwhelming. The hyacinths were corralled into oddly-shaped flower beds by knee-high boxwoods trimmed into neat hedges around gravel paths. The girls froze again, spotting movement.

In plain sight, spread out amon **g** the hyacinths, were odd, antique telescopes mounted on tr **i** pods. All were facing away fr **o** m the girls, toward a massi **v** e ole **a** nder thicket. Da **n** gling be **n** eath the telescopes, **i** n the middle of the tripod legs, were several glass phials filled with multicolored liquids. They glittered and tinkled like wind chimes. The girls first thought the movement they had seen was due to these shiny mobiles. They were proven wrong when all of the telescopes began walking on their tripod legs. Each telescope wobbled its way to a new position, all steadfastly aimed at the oleander thicket.

“What kind of place is this?” whispered Karin, eyes wide. Yuzu was too afraid to speak.

The girls observed everything for several minutes. All the tangled, zigzagging paths seemed to ultimately lead to the oleander thicket. There was a stone arch around a shadowed area, implying an entry. There were some other kind of unnaturally large flowers to either side of the door, their bright colors sprawled out over perhaps twenty feet on each side.

Karin weighed the risks. “I think we don't really have any choice but to go to the door-thing.”

Yuzu chewed her lip. “What if the... the... _things_ attack us?”

Karin mustered all the courage and bravado she could. “Then we beat them to pieces with shovels, of course. Come on.” Looking far more confident than she felt, Karin aggressively marched down the nearest path. Yuzu swallowed hard and followed her sister with a determined face, holding her shovel with a white-knuckled grip.

Their trek was uneventful. The strange telescope creatures seemed content to stare at the oleanders and made no move to stop them. As they approached the oleander thicket, they recognized the flowers to either side of the stone arch as spires of snapdragons of various colors. Each vivid blossom was about the size of a baseball.

As they neared the stone arch, Yuzu said with forced cheer, “W-well, it's really weird in here, but it's pretty, too. Don't... don't you think? Maybe... maybe we're overreacting and we just need to talk to a lonely ghost.”

The snapdragons exploded.

The girls screamed and ducked. They immediately looked up at the sound of ominous waves of buzzing moving around them.

Snapdra **g** ons were st **i** ll bursting from their st **a** lks like a wave of startled **c** rows. Each fl **o** wer see **m** ed to be the head **o** f a hummingbird the size of a mockingbird. Countless wingbeats hummed and buzzed as the snapdragons swarmed around the girls.

“K-kariiin,” Yuzu whispered fearfully. “What-- what do we do?”

Karin shifted her grip on her shovel and eyed the birds-- flowers? One flower opened and released a screech. The other flower-birds took up the screeching. Then they started diving at the girls from all directions, snapdragons opening as if pinched to allow the creatures to release tongues of flame.

“Hit them! HIT THEM! _HIT THEM!_ ” The hysterical edge made Karin's voice almost unrecognizable.

The next several minutes would be a blur to the girls when they looked back on it later. There had been a lot of screaming and swinging around of yard tools and dragon-like screeches and the feel of feathers brushing against their faces. Karin finally fell back on anger to escape the fear and roared as she flared her reiatsu the best she could. She succeeded in knocking back a wave of snapdragons. From then on, she focused her reiatsu into the shovel the way she usually did with her soccer ball when she fought Hollows. Yuzu fared worse, but when her sister rallied, she did as well. Unfortunately, she wore out quickly. Yuzu fell to her knees and shielded her head with her arms, screaming. Karin staggered over to her and tried to defend both of them, but was overwhelmed by the multitude. Her swings became sloppy. Finally, there was an unlucky moment in which she completely missed her mark and left her face wide open to a screeching snapdragon. She stared with wide eyes and actually saw a flame sparking between the petals when a spiked metal ball rocketed into it from the side, trailing a chain behind it as it scattered feathers and petals. The chain went taut and snapped the metal ball back the way it had come. Karin gawked and followed its course to its origin.

An older teenage girl with long dark hair had waded into the fray, wielding a meteor hammer with deadly accuracy. Her movements as she manipulated the weapon were sharply graceful. The snapdragons abandoned Karin and Yuzu and honed in on the new threat. The girl grinned eagerly, something a bit unhinged in her eyes. Karin wobbled down to her knees next to her sister and watched. Yuzu hesitantly sat up and joined her.

The teenager made brutally short work of the creatures. The twins had never seen such a weapon in real life. The way the girl manipulated the swift, chained weapon by looping it around her extremities and kicking strained the mind. In her hands, the projectile was like a close-quarters cannon. Within minutes, all that remained were scattered piles of smoldering feathers. The stranger stomped on one snapdragon that was still writhing and breathing smoke. She twisted her heel as though snuffing out a discarded cigarette and turned to face the twins.

The teenager wore a white sleeveless kimono top with pale silvery blue trim. Her white skirt was more Western, short and slightly flared with a lacy silver-blue petticoat peeking below the hemline. There was a minimal obi around her waist, white with accents in gray and silvery blue. It was adorned with a glittery snowflake clip. She wore white platform boots, laced in silver-blue up to just below her knees. Her ensemble was topped off by a choker and hair band in the same silvery blue, with what looked like a large snowflake-cut aquamarine nestled in a white bow on the left side of her head. It was a very cute outfit. It was a jarring contrast to the hard, predatory face of the girl who wore it.

In lieu of a greeting, the girl said, “Well, you've stayed alive and sane this far in. And you had the good sense to arm yourselves and fight. I guess that counts for something,” in a grudging tone.

The twins just stared blankly.

 _I've rarely seen anyone I haven't contracted perform as well as they did, Yuki_ , a cheerfully androgynous voice echoed in their heads. The twins twitched in surprise. A white cat... rabbit... thing with red eyes and markings and a fluffy tail stepped out from behind the teenager. _You two would make magnificent magical girls!_

Karin's face twisted in suspicious incredulity. “Magical girls?”

“I don't have time for this,” the girl snapped. “Explain while I fight the Witch if you're so keen on them, Kyubey.”

 _All right!_ The creature smoothly walked over to the twins, regarded them for a moment, then climbed into Yuzu's lap. _Make a barrier for us, though, Yuki?_

“Hmph. Fine. Let's move. I have things to do.” The girl breezed past them and into the stone arch, idly swinging the dangling mace at her side.

Karin stared after her and flatly said,“What is going on here.”

 _I can explain that!_ the creature... said? Thought? _My name is Kyubey. That was one of my magical girl contractees, Yuki Yubari. Let's go watch Yuki fight the Witch. I'll explain more there._

Yuzu looked up at Karin uncertainly. Karin shrugged and stood. Kyubey scampered up to Yuzu's shoulders as she rose. They cautiously entered the stone arch and found themselves in a long, dim tunnel formed of dense walls of oleander. When they reached the end, they found Yuki standing tensely with her hands on her hips, slowly looking the place over. The twins stood awkwardly for a moment.

“Um... w-what are you doing?” Yuzu eventually asked.

Yuki didn't even turn around. “Only an idiot would run in without assessing their opponent and surroundings,” she said snidely. “That stupid idiot soon becomes a dead idiot.”

“O-oh.” Yuzu looked down at her feet.

Karin scowled. “You don't have to be so rude.”

Yuki glanced over her shoulder coldly. “You're the ones rudely interrupting my routine.”

The girls flinched.

Kyubey sighed. _Yuki..._

Yuki huffed. “Fine.” She clasped her hands in front of her, then flung them out and behind her. Translucent chains of ice materialized from her palms and spread to form a faintly glowing chain link fence. “There. Your barrier.” Yuki turned to smile sweetly at the twins and cooed, “If you get out from behind this and get in my way, I'll kill you.” She turned and sauntered into the clearing, casually swinging her meteor hammer again.

The twins got their first proper view of the clearing. It was a wide, bowl-shaped garden with many terraces neatly planted with an assortment of flowers, ferns, and vines. The edges of the bowl disappeared into the massive oleander hedges surrounding the clearing. A **b** ove the oleander walls was a fancy greenhouse-lik **e** roof of many panes of glass de cor **a** ted by swirls of wrough **t** iron. The pale green sky and bu **r** ning sugar cube clouds were v **i** sible through the e **x** quisite ceiling. At the center of the bowl was an improbably large datura tree in full bloom. It was contorted oddly, ropes of poison ivy seeming to strangle it. Yuki stalked down a set of shallow stairs toward the datura.

 _Are you here to play with me?_ the girlish voice the twins had heard earlier asked hopefully.

Yuki laughed mockingly and leaped forward, meteor hammer spinning madly. When she landed on the grass, she lashed out with a foot and launched the hammer straight at the tree trunk. It landed with an ear-splitting crack of splintering wood. The tree writhed, trumpet-shaped flowers ringing like cow bells.

 _Mean! That hurt! I hate you!_ screamed the voice... the tree?

Yuki only laughed and retrieved her hammer to attack again.

The massive tree's branches shivered out of their stillness and into unnatural movement, limbs striking at Yuki like flails. Yuki stayed just within range and used her meteor hammer to strike every which way. Every few strikes, she would dart in closer and strike at the trunk again. The tree soon bent its lowest branches down like a cage. The poison ivy grew at an extraordinary rate and helped shield the trunk. Yuki backed off and resumed picking off branches while looking for a weak point.

 _As I was saying_ , the small white creature said as if a tree trying to murder a girl was an everyday occurrence, _Yuki is a magical girl. This strange place is called a labyrinth. Labyrinths are made by Witches. Witches are cursed and twisted spirits who lure humans to their labyrinths to prey on them. They spread despair wherever they go. I offer a contract to strong girls so that they can become magical girls and fight the Witches._

“Spirits?” Karin hummed thoughtfully. “So, Witches are kind of like Hollows? And these, uh, magical girls-- they fight Witches like shinigami fight the Hollows?”

Kyubey went very still on Yuzu's shoulder. After a moment its tail resumed its slow swishing. _You know about Hollows and shinigami?_ it asked with mild surprise.

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh,” said Yuzu as she craned her head to try to see the creature's face.

_How interesting! Not many people do. You must have extraordinary magical girl potential!_

“You-- you think we could be magical girls?” Yuzu gasped. “Like-- like her?” She looked down at Yuki's ongoing battle. The girl had begun initiating an explosion of ice with every impact of her hammer, leaving stubborn icicles on the murderous limbs. “She's so strong.”

 _You could easily surpass her. Your latent power is unusually high._ The creature cocked its head, beady red eyes staring at Karin. _It's not surprising, if you can see Hollows and shinigami._ It paused again, then cocked its head the other direction. _How do you know what they are? I was under the impression the shinigami found a way to erase humans' memories of them._

“We're from Karakura,” Karin answered flatly. “They try memory-wiping people, but there's no point even trying on a lot of us who can actually see them. It may work for a few days but the modifier wears off fast.”

Kyubey sat up straight. _Ah. That explains a lot. I avoid Karakura. It's been a dangerous place for over a century now._

“Because of the jūreichi?” Yuzu asked curiously.

Kyubey went still again. _You really do know a lot!_ It said cheerfully. _Yes. Too many Hollows and shinigami in one place. Thankfully, most Witches avoid Karakura, too. People there are generally more difficult to lure into a labyrinth. Not impossible, but more difficult. I don't have any contractees in Karakura, though, so I don't know how many Witches do take the chance._

“Wait, these Witch things could be in Karakura?!” Karin asked urgently. “How could we not know about them?!”

 _They hide themselves in their labyrinths. You wouldn't feel them like you can sense a Hollow because they essentially create a pocket dimension. Most of their reiatsu is contained within these dimensions. They only let out a small amount to act as lures._ The creature shifted and settled more comfortably around Yuzu's neck. _The humans in the jūreichi generally have at least slightly elevated reiatsu, so Witches would have to expose more of themselves to successfully lure someone. That would put them at risk._

“O... kay...,” Karin said. “And what do they do to the people they lure in?”

 _Why, they kill them and eat them, of course._ Kyubey calmly groomed a paw. _That's their greatest similarity to Hollows, really. Witches sometimes eat the physical bodies too, though._

The girls stared at the creature in horror.

The splintering of wood, clanging of bells, and a chilling roar snapped their attention back to the battle. The fragments of ice Yuki had been leaving on branches all around the tree burst and shot chains of ice in every direction, binding the tree's limbs. The tree thrashed and screamed. The garden echoed with the cracking and booming of the tree ripping its roots up out of the ground to fight with.

The twins gasped as Yuki dodged and wove and repeatedly nailed the roots with her meteor hammer, leaving ice behind once again.

Kyubey just continued placidly swishing its tail. _Don't worry. Yuki is a veteran. She's not the strongest, but she's wonderfully clever in battle. As I was saying, I don't have any contractees specifically defending Karakura. You both have great potential. If you want to defend your town, please consider making a wish and contracting with me to become magical girls!_

Both girls stared at Kyubey incredulously, torn between its absurd conversation and Yuki's bizarre battle.

“Make a wish?!”

“Really become a magical girl?!”

_Of course! I can't expect you to risk your lives without compensation. I have been told humans consider that the height of rudeness._

The Witch-tree shrieked in frustration. Poison ivy vines whipped out from the tree's center, seeking Yuki. The magical girl grinned fiercely and allowed the vines to ensnare her. She laughed as she was engulfed in vines and hauled toward the hidden tree trunk.

“Oh, no!”

“What is she doing?!” Karin looked at Kyubey and pointed to the battle. “Aren't you worried about her?!”

Kyubey somehow used telepathy to express the sound of clicking one's tongue. _Of course not. As I said, Yuki is brilliant in battle. She takes more risks than a lot of girls I've contracted, but the responsibility for how she uses the powers she purchased belongs to her. Even if I had no confidence in her skills, I can't do anything if she decides to throw her life away for joy of the battle._

Karin looked disturbed. “That's-- that's really cold.”

 _Is it?_ Kyubey piped up curiously. _Humans are so contradictory. I thought free will and sacrifice were all but sacred to your people. Warriors past and present are lauded for similar decisions. What makes Yuki so different?_

Said magical girl could be heard laughing eerily from deep in the crashing foliage.

Yuzu looked dismayed. “But-- but she's not a soldier!”

 _Isn't she?_ Kyubey blinked up at them. _She learned of a threat and chose to fight it despite risk to her life. Does that not make her a warrior?_

“But-- but--” Yuzu floundered.

“But she's so young,” Karin finished.

“And we're even younger,” Yuzu said uncertainly.

 _So? Human children have ascended the thrones of their countries and aided in battle and labor since ancient times._ _The sheltered view your people have of children in this era is still new. I don't understand the change._ Kyubey sighed. _I thought willingness to fight for a cause was something respected across age barriers. Even the Japanese are familiar with Jeanne d'Arc. She contracted with me when she was just thirteen years old. Three years later, she led armies in support of her king. Westerners now exalt her as a saint and respect her faith in her cause. Why is any adolescent who risks their life for a cause held to a different standard? Are their sacrifices less worthy because of their age?What of those who stand and fight when their elders fail their duties? Do their choices become laudable only if they are the last line of defense and thus arguably have_ no _choice?_

Karin and Yuzu thought of their brother, who had been a sixteen-year-old boy when he had gone to war with a man who aspired to godhood. They had no answer.

_This “childhood” concept of yours is nebulous and subjective at best. My people have observed that “childhood” is a sliding scale throughout time and generally ends when a young human can no longer be sheltered from the realities of life. Technological advancement has allowed wealthier civilizations to shelter their young longer, yes, but that is an artificial buffer which will inevitably be broken._

Discomfited, the girls were glad to be distracted by the battle once again. A brilliant flash of blue-white light flickered from deep within the foliage. Karin recognized the sensation of mounting reiatsu.

 _Oh, Yuki's going to do something interesting_ , Kyubey said with all the concern of someone commenting on a change in weather.

Thin but strong ice chains blasted out of many gaps in the foliage. Each rapidly extended outward while developing a sea urchin-like mass of ice spikes at their ends. For one moment, the icy flails drew taut and held still. In the next instant, dozens of gigantic meteor hammers made of ice rocketed back at the central tree. To say that the tree promptly exploded would be an understatement.

The twins flinched and shielded their heads with their arms but soon found it unnecessary-- any debris that managed to reach them immediately froze and shattered against the barrier Yuki had erected in front of them. The girls lowered their arms and watched as the wreckage of the garden warped and faded from view, leaving them where they had started in the clearing in the arboretum. Karin whipped her head around and saw Kazuya still unconscious in a pile of dead leaves. She faced forward again, watching as Yuki caught a silver and obsidian pendulum that was floating down from the sky.

Yuki smirked and haughtily tossed her hair over her shoulder. Her body glowed pale blue for a moment before the light burst from her in fragments, leaving her clothed in a high school uniform. She held the black pendulum by its spindle in her right hand and held out her left hand. A pale blue, egg-shaped gem set in gold coalesced in her palm. She brought the different gems together. The twins watched as murky darkness seeped from the blue gem to the black gem as though attracted by a magnet. When the blue gem shone more brightly than before, Yuki spread her left hand and let the egg disappear. She tossed the black gem and caught it, then brandished it.

“Do you want it or not, Kyubey?”

 _Yes, please!_ The white creature jumped from Yuzu's shoulder as Yuki lobbed the black gem toward it. It flipped and a portion of its back opened and neatly caught the gem. Its back had closed again by the time it landed, both Kyubey and Yuki acting like a living creature having a trap door in its back was normal.

Yuki turned her attention to the twins, eyes narrowing as she leaned one hand on her hip. “As you can see, being a magical girl isn't for the faint of heart. You have guts, though, so you can probably pull it off.” Her voice was more stern than encouraging.

“Can-- can we really become magical girls?” asked Yuzu.

 _Of course!_ Kyubey said happily. _As soon as you make a wish, I can make you become a magical girl right away!_

Yuki looked at Kyubey from the corners of her eyes, the opposite of enthusiastic. She looked back up at the twins. “Two things, if you want to become magical girls.”

Karin raised her brows and Yuzu looked eager for advice.

“One: Choose your wish carefully. Don't wish for something stupid you could get yourself.”

“Tch. Duh,” Karin scoffed.

Yuki glared at her. “You'd be surprised how many idiots wish for things like cake and puppies. Girls who make such childish, naïve wishes usually end up dead pretty quickly.”

Yuzu swallowed hard. Karin rolled her eyes but looked uncomfortable. “Fine. What's the other thing?”

Yuki moved so quickly they barely saw her. One blink they were facing the older girl a few yards away, the next blink they were both pinned to a large tree, Yuki holding them up by their collars with a bloodthirsty expression on her face.

“If you _ever_ trespass on my territory, I'll come after you. If you _ever_ poach my kills, I will kill you. _Painfully_.” Yuki slammed them against the tree trunk and intensified her glare. “ _Do you understand?_ ”

Kyubey sat in the clearing and watched calmly, swishing its tail.

The twins squawked out their understanding. Yuki dropped them. “Good,” she sniffed. She wandered over to Kazuya's senseless form and peered at him from a couple different angles, then callously flipped him onto his back using one foot. “Looks like Little Mister Lunch will be okay. Ah. Learn how to come up with cover stories for things like people being found unconscious, too. Forgot that.” Yuki straightened and watched the girls gasping on the ground against the tree where she had dropped them. “Here's a generous bonus lesson in Cover Stories 101 from me to you: The boy was acting weirdly and you followed him until he fought you and passed out. Say you thought you saw the little idiot eat some berries off a plant earlier but you don't know which one. His memories of the last hour or so should be screwy enough that he won't be able to say any different. It should get the adults focused on freaking out about the plants and him instead of you. Got it?”

The twins hurriedly nodded.

Voices calling the sixth-graders' names started lilting through the trees.

“That's my cue to go,” said Yuki. She looked down at Kyubey. “If you want to recruit them, fine. But I'm not training up some babies. Explain things yourself and keep them away from me.” She didn't wait for a response before she turned on her heel and leapt away through the trees as Karin had seen shinigami do.

Kyubey looked up at the girls. _Other people shouldn't be able to see me, but I have to go anyway. Are there train lines through Karakura?_

“J-just the one,” Karin answered haltingly. “It runs from there to here.”

 _Good!_ chirped Kyubey. _I can't go to Karakura, but I can wait outside of town. Perhaps two stations out of town? Whenever you can get there, I can explain more._

“Don't you have to help Yuki?” asked Yuzu.

_Don't worry, there are many of us helping magical girls. Someone else will be assigned to Yuki. So, will I see you soon?_

The voices came closer. The girls looked toward them.

“Um, maybe?” Karin answered distractedly.

 _Well, I'll see you later!_ The creature daintily hopped into the trees and disappeared the way Yuki had gone.

The twins stared after Kyubey as a teacher's voice drew near, then looked at each other in disbelief.

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .
> 
> BEATRIX  
> The Greenhouse Witch with a toxic nature. Nurtured in isolation to be the loveliest of flowers, she craves the attention of others. She desperately lures companions to her garden. As each companion withers when exposed to her poisonous affection, she only becomes more anxious to find another.
> 
> Minion: Chloris, whose duty is to make merry in her mistress' isolated garden. The Witch can't bear the loneliness of silence, so they are constantly laughing and making noise.
> 
> Minion: Giovanni, whose duty is to admire his mistress. Even though he is dedicated to her, he saddens the Witch by doing so from afar and carrying antidotes with him everywhere.
> 
> Minion: Giacomo, whose duty is to attack those intruders unworthy of being a companion to his mistress. Despite the Witch's intent for him, he just attacks everyone who enters. No one is worthy in his eyes.
> 
> Image of Witch Kiss at h*t*t*p*:*/*/*i*.*i*m*g*u*r*.*c*o*m*/*0*T*u*c*D*a*y*.*p*n*g  
> It's intended to look like a partially-opened datura blossom.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: I hope that labyrinth was trippy enough. :D
> 
> Inventing Witches (and magical girls) is so fun. Start with a vague idea, throw it at Google, research vaguely-related things to throw together into a surreal mess, and boom. This chapter is brought to you by my fondness for Nathaniel Hawthorn's short story Rappaccini's Daughter, Kill Bill, and vintage absinthe advertisements, among other things. ;) Every flower mentioned is poisonous to some degree.
> 
> Next chapter will be another flashback.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews. ;)


	12. ELF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As always, thank you for the reviews. They are so encouraging and thought-provoking. I like when you make me look at the story from a different angle. :)
> 
> What? Me? Procrastinate on things I should really be doing to write fanfic? No way!
> 
> Ah, last time I forgot to say “queue up 'Venari Strigas' and 'Magi' karaoke version.” Hahahaha. *only half-joking* Anyway, I hope you enjoy Kyubey's rhetorical acrobatics. ;)

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**ELF**

**[THE SET OF ALL TIMELINES FROM (X) TO (X+N+54)] - [14 MONTHS]**

The next hours passed in a blur of desperately concocting consistent lies for the adults supervising their trip. Karin actively wondered if her brother and his friends had become good at lying to their teachers when Hollows interrupted their school days. If she and Yuzu became magical girls, would lying become easier with experience?

The girls didn't speak a word about what had actually happened until late that night as they lay in their beds in their shared room. Both lay on their backs, staring at the moonlight and shadows on the ceiling. Karin's hands were clawed into her sheets as she stared up grimly. Yuzu was wringing her hands uncertainly.

Long after the house had fallen silent, Yuzu finally asked, “What are we going to do?”

Karin twisted the sheets in her fingers. “I think...” She bit her lip and shifted. “I think we need to ask questions first. I don't want to jump in head-first like Ichi-nii did with the shinigami stuff.”

“Ah.” Yuzu fidgeted. “We can-- we can make a list. Of questions, I mean. And pros and cons. Then we can figure out if it's, uh-- worth? Worth doing.”

“Good idea. I think question one needs to be about that thing on Kazuya's neck. And we need to ask about wishes. That just sounded weird.”

They fell silent for another few minutes.

“Karin?”

“Mm?”

“Do you think-- Do you think I could really fight as a magical girl?”

“What? Sure.”

“I don't really know how to fight.”

“You can learn. I don't think you realize what you're capable of when you get angry and protective. You just need to be more... assertive? I think that's the word.”

“You really think so?”

“Psh. I know so.”

Course of action decided, the girls settled down to sleep.

The twins spent the next week tweaking a list of questions and thinking of an excuse to disappear for a day. They eventually settled on a one-day soccer clinic a professional player was holding five train stops out of Karakura. Yuzu's excuse to go with would be to cheer on Karin and go shopping at a fancy foreign food market in the same ward. The plan was to actually do what they said and stop at Kyubey's designated station on the way home. They deliberately waited until the last minute to ask so that their father wouldn't have any time to rearrange his schedule and come with them.

When they proposed their day out over dinner, Isshin scratched his chin.

“Hmm. I dunno. Can you chaperone the girls, Ichigo?”

Ichigo swallowed his rice and cleared his throat. “As much as I'd like to watch Karin terrorize a bunch of cocky twerps, I'm supposed to help put up a block wall for work tomorrow. The client is paying big money, so I can't skip out or Ms. Ikumi will murder me.” He took a swig of water, glanced at the girls, and looked back to their father. “They're thirteen. They know how to use trains-- how far away is this thing?”

The girls looked hopeful. Was their brother going to bat for them?

“Five stops east of our station,” Yuzu said eagerly.

“The field is a block away from the station,” Karin added.

“And the market is two blocks in the other direction. And I'll stay with Karin at the soccer clinic and she'll come with me to the market so we won't be alone. Pleeeease?” Yuzu almost vibrated with excitement.

Ichigo shrugged. “That's not too far. It's not like they're going somewhere crowded like Harajuku or something. And they both have cell phones to call for help if they get in trouble. I think they can handle it.”

Isshin frowned. “I don't know. That's a lot of responsibility...”

“Tch.” Ichigo rolled his eyes and snarked, “They're more responsible than you are, Old Man.”

The girls glanced at each other. _Best big brother ever._

“Waaah, what do you mean, Ichigooo?”

“I meant exactly what I said.”

Isshin bolted from his chair and hurled himself at the poster of his late wife. “MASAKIIIIII!” he sobbed, “OUR SON THINKS I'M A BAD FATHER!”

“That's not what I said.”

“You may as well haaaave!”

“I meant the girls don't go bawling around like idiots all the time and keep a level head, unlike some people.”

“Like who?!”

“Like you.”

“What?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!”

“Do you ever listen to yourself?”

“BWAAA! YOU'RE SO CRUEL, ICHIGOOOOO!”

Ichigo finally lost his patience. “GOD, WILL YOU SHUT UP WITH THE DRAMA AND DECIDE WHETHER THE GIRLS CAN GO DO SOMETHING WORTHWHILE TOMORROW INSTEAD OF SITTING AROUND THE CLINIC WITH YOU?”

“YOU SAY THAT LIKE BEING IN THE CLINIC WITH ME IS BORING!”

“EXACTLY!”

“MASAKIIIIIIIIIII!”

Eventually, the girls were allowed to go.

Ichigo walked them to the train station the next morning on his way to work. Before they parted ways, he set his hands on his hips and stared at the twins. After a few moments, he drily said, “I probably don't have to tell you this, but don't go off and do something stupid that will make us all look like idiots for thinking you can handle going places on your own, yeah?”

The girls nodded enthusiastically. Yuzu flung herself at her big brother and hugged his middle. “Thank you so much for helping us, Onii-chan!”

Karin stepped forward and didn't quite hug him, but grabbed his shirt and leaned into him shyly. “Thanks, Ichi-nii.”

Ichigo smiled softly and tousled their hair. “Yeah, yeah. You have fun today, okay?” When both girls backed off and cheered, he looked seriously at his more athletic sister. “Hey, Karin.”

“Uh, yeah, Ichi-nii?”

Ichigo grinned wolfishly. “I want to hear all about how much ass you kick at dinner tonight. Got it?” He held out a fist.

Karin laughed brightly, matched his grin with a fierce smirk of her own, and bumped her fist against his. “Mission accepted, Ichi-nii!”

“Take some video with your phone, yeah, Yuzu?”

Yuzu saluted and looked cutely serious. “Yes, sir!”

Ichigo fished out his wallet and took out a small wad of yen notes. “Buy yourself something nice at the market, okay? No point just looking and buying stuff to feed us.”

“Thank you, Onii-chan!” Yuzu squealed.

Ichigo parted ways with them. He lazily waved goodbye to them just before he turned a corner. The girls waved back at him and looked at each other.

Seriously. Best. Big brother. _Ever_.

Their day passed in a blur. The train ride was uneventful. Karin got bumped up to play with the high school age bracket at the clinic and preened about the professional player's praise and critiques all through the trip to the foreign food market, where Yuzu was equally in heaven. Their excitement lasted until they got on the return train and soberly counted stations.

They disembarked at the designated station and looked around. It wasn't particularly crowded, the lunch rush over and rush hour still two hours away. The girls wandered around the platform, unsure what they should do.

_Karin! Yuzu!_

The girls startled and looked around.

_Up here!_

Kyubey blinked down at them from its perch on a high beam, partially obscured in shadow. The creature stood and stretched like a cat. _I'm so glad you came!_ It jumped from the beam and landed lightly a few yards away from the girls. A female commuter holding the hand of a five-year-old walked right past the creature without seeing it.

 _Follow me! I'll lead you to a more private place to talk._ Kyubey trotted away, leaving the girls no real choice but to follow it.

They ended up in a large park. Circling around the playground full of mothers supervising their bundled-up little ones, Kyubey led them to a duck pond behind a stand of trees. The fluffy white creature perched on a rock in front of a bench as though holding court over the flock of bored ducks. Karin and Yuzu took the hint and sat on the bench. Ducks swarmed around their feet to beg, but lost interest when the girls didn't feed them.

Kyubey didn't waste any time. _Have you decided on a wish?_

“Hooold up,” Karin said drily. “We haven't even decided if we're going to do this whole magical girl thing _at all_ yet. We need more information.”

“We want to know what we would be getting into,” Yuzu said softly.

Kyubey blinked up at them owlishly. _Ah. You're more cautious and mature than most girls I approach. That bodes well for your performance as magical girls._ The creature settled more comfortably on the rock. _I can answer your questions._

Yuzu dug in her purse and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. She smoothed it out on her lap and cleared her throat. “We want to start with what happened at the gardens. Kazuya acted like the... Witch? Like the Witch was calling him. And he had a tattoo-thingy on his neck that he called an invitation. What was that?”

 _Oh! That was a Witch's Kiss. Remember how I said Witches hide in pocket dimensions and only let out some of their reiatsu as a lure?_ The girls nodded. _Each Witch has a unique symbol. A personal seal, if you will. A Witch may lure a human closer to its labyrinth without applying this seal to the human, but the appearance of the Witch's Kiss signifies that the victim has been completely ensnared by the Witch. They can't be reasoned with. They will use force if you interfere with the orders the Witch has given them. You could say it is a form of brainwashing._ Kyubey rolled its head thoughtfully. _I've told you that magical girls are born of wishes, yes? In contrast, Witches are born of curses. Not only do they feed on humans, they also curse humans into harming themselves or others. They can be more insidious than Hollows. They do lure humans into their labyrinths to eat them whole, but they often eat souls after they use their seals to command humans to commit suicide._

The girls stared at Kyubey, white-faced.

“W-why?!” squeaked Yuzu.

Kyubey shrugged as best a cat-thing could. _It's in their nature to spread despair._ It paused. _Just as it is in a Hollow's nature to consume human souls._

Yuzu worried at her lip and Karin chewed on one cheek. Kyubey blinked innocently. _Do you have other questions?_

“U-um, yeah,” Yuzu stammered. She shifted the paper around in her fingers. “You said Witches are spirits. Can shinigami fight them?”

Kyubey went still. _Shinigami might be able to fight Witches, but I do not know of it ever happening,_ it said coldly. _They cannot detect labyrinths. I suppose a strong Witch could Kiss a weak shinigami. If it has ever happened, I don't know of it._

Karin eyed Kyubey. “What's with the harsh tone?”

Kyubey's tail lashed agitatedly. _Shinigami would rather hunt magical girls than ask their help to find Witches. No. They would rather hunt magical girls than deign to consider that they may be ignorant of a spiritual threat._

The girls were startled. Karin gaped. “Hunt magical girls?!”

 _Yes. I have taken pains to avoid contracting girls in places with high concentrations of shinigami activity. You see, magical girls can perform some of the same tasks as shinigami. The shinigami have never been fond of the living sharing their powers. Humans who have stumbled into possessing shinigami powers have been executed by them. Long ago, some of my contractees were discovered and executed without an opportunity to explain their primary duties. Still later, I contracted with girls of the Quincy line of Hollow-exterminators._ Kyubey cocked its head. _Do you know what happened to the Quincy?_

“Yes,” both girls whispered.

 _I see._ Kyubey watched its own tail waving, mental voice clinical. _I understand the shinigami's reasoning for the genocide. Practically speaking, by that point it was the most efficient move they could take as negotiations would have prolonged the imbalance. But the conflict with the Quincy was sparked by the shinigami's own failures and inefficiencies. Had they applied the same effort toward bettering their own organization from the time they noticed the problem, negotiation with and extermination of the Quincy would have been unnecessary as the Quincy would have had fewer Hollows to eliminate themselves. In fact, the shinigami should have considered the possibility that their own failures created the conditions in which Quincy could evolve in the first place. If there is one thing my people have learned about human souls, it is that they are very adaptable. Given a lack of protection from a spiritual predator, it makes sense for living humans to evolve the ability to defend themselves from spiritual predators._ Kyubey slid its eyes back to look at the girls sideways. _My people are pragmatists. We can see that the shinigami's operations are still insufficient. Had they embraced the practical strategy of using Quincy and other living humans with spiritual powers as first responders who could protect the vulnerable and summon shinigami to finish off attacking Hollows, the entire spiritual system would be more perfectly balanced than it is today._ Kyubey sat up and turned its nose skyward. _The shinigami are too arrogant to consider such an idea. They prefer to fool themselves into thinking they are the apex of the spiritual hierarchy. It is shamefully illogical. They are human souls, though, so I suppose it is only to be expected._

The girls looked deeply uncomfortable. Karin ground her teeth for a moment. “So, approaching the shinigami would be a bad idea?”

_If you don't want to be killed, then yes, it would be a bad idea_ , Kyubey said mildly.

“But!” Yuzu bit her lip and reconsidered her phrasing in light of Kyubey's attitude. How would it react if it knew they were so closely tied to the shinigami? “We-- we-- um, heard...? _Heard_ that the shinigami had a big war not too long ago and the old government was all assassinated. A-and humans with powers helped them win their war. Shinigami are allowed to talk to humans in Karakura who have powers now. And they even work with a Quincy boy. S-so maybe things are different now?”

Kyubey was silent for a long while. _Forgive me, but I do not wish to discard centuries of necessary caution._

Before she could stop herself, Karin blurted out, “Wouldn't that make you like the shinigami dismissing a partnership with the Quincy?”

Kyubey bristled like a cat but settled down for another long period of silent thought. _You're interesting._ It paused again. The silence stretched. _Practically speaking, you have a point._ It stared piercingly into each of the girls' eyes in turn. _When you say you have heard about a shinigami war and that shinigami speak with humans in the jūreichi, do you mean to imply that you have spoken with shinigami yourselves?_

Karin crossed her arms. “Yeah. Their whole stupid war was over some crazy shinigami traitor who wanted to conquer the jūreichi for himself, so a bunch of shinigami were stationed in the city to protect it. Even now that most of them are gone, we still talk to the guy who's technically assigned to patrol Karakura. He gets bored because so many people in Karakura have Hollow-fighting powers that half the time Hollows are busted before he can get to them. Some of the ones who were stationed there for the war visit every once in awhile.”

Kyubey tilted its head to one side.  _Why would a shinigami want to conquer a human city?_

Karin shrugged. “Some creepy plan to sacrifice all our souls to make some thingamabob that would let him go kill God and take over, or something. I dunno how that was supposed to work. A shinigami I talked to said it could have been some bullshit fairytale the traitor decided to use as a ruse. Anyway, I've heard their government's politics about humans with powers have changed drastically in the last couple years.”

Kyubey cocked its head in the other direction.  _How interesting._ It looked down in thought, then back up at the girls.  _As I told you, I am a pragmatist. Should you contract with me, you would be in a unique position to carefully question shinigami for the official policies regarding living humans with spiritual powers. Should you gather enough evidence of safety, my people may consider altering our own official policy of avoidance. The burden of proof would be quite substantial, though. Realistically, that standard may not be met during your lifetimes. You must recognize, historically speaking, that sudden political change is not always complete or permanent change._

Karin made a considering face. Yuzu frowned. “Are you asking us to spy on the shinigami?”

_Spy? Hmmmmm. That depends on what connotation you attribute to the act of trying to discern whether peace and cooperation are possible between magical girls and shinigami._ Kyubey swished its tail and gravely said,  _You do understand that contracting you would be a significant risk on my part, do you not? And that you would take on a substantially larger risk to yourselves than any of my other contractees?_ The girls nodded.  _Good. Next question?_

Karin narrowed her eyes. “What are you that you can grant wishes and dish out powers like a shinigami's?”

_Hmmmmmmmmm_ . Kyubey stretched and looked skyward.  _Do you know about other spiritual dimensions?_

“You mean Soul Society and Hueco Mundo?” asked Karin. “And that creepy one you have to run through... I forget.”

_Yes. There are many dimensions. My people are spiritual beings from one of those dimensions. We are essentially uniform as a race. You may think of us as spiritual catalysts, if you will. We are part of a cycle similar to the human-Hollow-shinigami cycle. As you have seen, my people consume the Grief Seeds left behind when a Witch is defeated. Essentially, we convert the cursed energy into neutral energy, which we then use to grant wishes and awaken the positive powers of magical girls to fight the Witches. This cycle efficiently strikes a balance of positive and negative energy in the World of the Living._

“Oh,” said Yuzu.

“That makes sense, I guess,” said Karin. “How do you give girls magical powers, anyway?”

_We technically don't “give” girls power so much as we use one kind of energy to unlock the energy already present within a girl's soul. You could say that we purchase a girl's services by granting a wish and unlocking her soul's power so that she may fulfill her side of our contract by repaying us with Grief Seeds won using that power. The degree of magnitude of a girl's wish can affect how much of a girl's power is unlocked-- in essence, when a girl chooses a wish, she is declaring her value or purchasing power-- just how much she thinks she can “afford” to pay back with her performance. That declaration becomes an obligation once the transaction is complete. If you recall, Yuki told you that girls who make wishes for simple material items tend to fail rather quickly. This is partly due to naïveté making them unsuitable for battle, but also due to the self-limiting nature of their wishes. My most effective contractees are usually those who made the most ambitious wishes._

_Now, the mechanism by which we awaken a girl's power. As I said, magical girls can perform some of the same tasks as shinigami. This is because they wield the power of their souls just as the shinigami do. Shinigami channel their power through their blades-- their zanpakutō. The more experience and training they accumulate, the stronger their zanpakutō becomes. There is a particular power threshold at which shinigami are able to more sharply focus their power. This is called shikai. It allows the shinigami to mold their blade into a more specialized weapon._ Kyubey paused and curiously tilted its head. _Have you ever seen something like that in the jūreichi?_

“Yeah,” said Karin. “I've seen a guy make his sword suddenly have a crescent blade on a chain attached to the hilt.”

_Good! You should understand, then_ , Kyubey said cheerfully.  _Now, as living humans in material bodies, potential magical girls do not have zanpakutō into which they may channel their power. What my people do with the energy converted from the remains of Witches is catalyze a girl's soul to crystallize its power as a self-contained focus. Each girl manifests a unique weapon that approximates the zanpakutō she would have if she became a shinigami and achieved shikai. I say “approximates” because, technically speaking, the blank blades shinigami use to channel their powers are superb foci my people can closely mimic but not completely replicate. As such, magical girl weapons are capable of purifying Hollows and sending souls to Soul Society. However, they fall short of the ability to completely purify a Witch. If magical girls were natural phenomena, this would be a fatal flaw. However, it suits our purposes in the cycle nicely._

The girls thought about that for a moment.

“Would a zanpakutō be able to completely purify a Witch?” Yuzu wondered.

_I have no way of knowing. My people have hypothesized that it may be possible, but due to security concerns we have not been able to perform any tests._

Both girls hummed thoughtfully.

“Um, you said wishes can affect power. Can you give us some advice about wishes?” asked Yuzu.

 _Ah. Well, I can't recommend specific wishes. It would interfere with your self-valuation more directly than my people have determined reasonable. However..._ Kyubey looked skyward and swished its tail for a few moments. _Those contractees who make wishes for the benefit of someone other than themselves tend to be the most powerful. We do not fully understand the mechanics of that, as it would seem to be a devaluation of the self as compared to a third party and thus self-limiting. However, several magical girls I have spoken with have suggested that rather than a devaluation of the self, it is an exaltation of the value of a third party and that the degree to which a human is willing to commit sacrifices for the third party's benefit is what determines the degree of power unlocked. Our observations tend to support that hypothesis, but there are enough exceptions that we cannot verify it._

“So the best course of action is to make a wish to help someone else?” asked Karin.

 _That depends_ , answered Kyubey. _An ambitious wish for your own benefit could work as well. Making a wish for a third party's benefit carries the risk of wishing for something they wouldn't necessarily risk for themselves. Such wishes can be like curses in nature. In that respect, self-indulgent wishes are the safer route._

“Hmmmmmm. What kind of wishes can you grant?” asked Karin.

 _Pretty much anything save for raising the dead_ , answered Kyubey. _Once a soul has moved on in the cycle, we cannot retrieve it if we have not previously encountered it to be able to track down its energy signature. Technically, we may be able to revive someone dead only moments as the traces of their reiatsu would not have completely disappeared from their bodies or their souls may actually still be present. The occurrence of situations in which we are coincidentally present when a potential magical girl witnesses someone die and immediately contracts to wish them back to life are fairly rare, though._

“That makes sense,” said Yuzu.

_Next?_

“You mentioned something called a Grief Seed. What's that?” asked Karin.

 _Oh! Do you remember the black jewel Yuki got when she defeated the Witch?_ Both girls nodded. _That was a Grief Seed. Magical girl weapons cannot completely purify Witches, but they can forcibly concentrate their power into a crystalline structure akin to the structure my people create for the power of magical girls. We call that item a Soul Gem. You saw Yuki's-- the blue egg-shaped jewel._

“Oh. What was it that she did with the Soul Gem and Grief Seed?” asked Yuzu.

_When a magical girl uses her magic to fight Witches and their Familiars, she exposes her power to the taint of the labyrinths. Grief Seeds are concentrated curses. Like attracts like, so magical girls use Grief Seeds to draw off the residual curses and purify the taint to their Soul Gems so they don't become cursed themselves. Then they give the Grief Seeds to me to dispose of safely and the cycle continues._

“Ah. I get it,” said Karin.

_So! Any more questions?_

The girls looked at each other, then the list, then each other.

“Um. Yeah. One last question. It's kind of stupid...,” said Karin.

_What is it?_

“Are you a boy or a girl?” asked Yuzu.

Kyubey's eyes twinkled in apparent amusement. _Most humans refer to me using masculine pronouns. I don't mind either way. Gender is irrelevant to my kind._ Kyubey looked hopeful. _Have you made a decision?_

“Uh, we need to think about it. This is too important to just rush into, you know?” said Karin.

 _I understand_ , said Kyubey. _I suppose living in the jūreichi would instill caution in any human. If you ever decide to contract with me, just come to the train station. I'll be waiting._

The girls bid the creature goodbye and made their way back to the station.

Kyubey sat on the rock and idly swished its tail as it stared silently after them, eyes glimmering red in the shadows of early twilight.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Kyubey is difficult to write. It's a character with a mind for technicalities akin to the slipperiest lawyers and politicians. It claims to be emotionless in the anime, yet clearly displays some emotions like eagerness, surprise, interest, mild condescension, and curiosity. So I'm writing it as lacking empathy instead of completely without emotion. It's a fine line to walk. I hope I pulled it off.
> 
> Next time: The flashback continues. The Kurosaki girls find a reason to contract.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews.


	13. ZWÖLF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What? Kyubey, possibly an equivocating bastard? No way!

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**ZWÖLF**

**[THE SET OF ALL TIMELINES FROM (X) TO (X+N+54)] - [14 MONTHS]**

The girls were somber the entire trip home. They had a lot to think about. When they got home, they put the entire mess out of their minds to cheerfully recount their adventures over a takeout dinner. By mutual agreement, they only discussed Kyubey's proposal in the dead of night when Isshin and Ichigo were sleeping.

The next week passed by in the pleasant idleness of the obligation-free time between school years for the girls. They found it strange getting used to Ichigo not being around all the time during the break, too. His work at the odd-jobs shop kept him on the move, his boss mercilessly wringing every moment of use out of him while she could avoid having to schedule around school. Ichigo complained about it at length and at great volume, but he seemed to enjoy entertaining his sisters with accounts of the bizarre situations he sometimes found himself in.

One morning in mid-March found the girls and their father in the kitchen eating breakfast while Ichigo slept in, worn out from a day-long job of hauling furniture around and helping a client clean carpets. They didn't think anything of his absence until he suddenly appeared in the doorway, desperately sling-shotted himself around the corner, and looked wildly around the kitchen. Everyone looked at him oddly as he darted toward a plate of onigiri and snatched one up.

“Ichi-nii?”

“I'm late!”

“Ehhh? Work today, too? I thought you had a day off,” pouted Yuzu.

“We didn't finish the carpet house, then Boss has some courier bullshit for me,” he nearly snarled. “It's like no one has ever heard of e-mail. I may as well be training for a marathon.” He hurried for the door.

Yuzu stood and put her hands on her hips with a scowl. “One onigiri isn't enough food for a day of hard work, Onii-chan!”

“No time! Bye!” The door slammed.

Isshin waved at the empty hallway and jokingly sang, “Bye-byyye, have a nice daaay.”

Yuzu's scowl downgraded back to a pout. “He's going to run himself ragged.”

Karin hummed her agreement into her glass of juice.

“Don't worry, girls. Ichigo knows how to take care of himself.”

Karin hummed more skeptically.

Isshin downed the last of his juice and stood. “Well, I'm late getting the clinic open, too. Have a fun morning, girls. See you at lunch.”

The girls finished their breakfasts quietly. While cleaning up, Yuzu asked Karin if she had plans for the day.

“Hnnn. Tōshirō was supposed to come play soccer with me, but he texted me about something coming up at his division so I'm on my own.”

“Aww. That's, what, the third time?”

“Yep. Can't be helped. It's what I get for making friends with a guy with a day job in another dimension. Ah, well,” she sighed. “He's getting annoyed about it, too. Whenever he actually does manage to get his ass over here, he's going to have a lot of steam to blow off. I'll have to make sure we go against a team I want to really crush.”

Yuzu giggled. “So what are you going to do instead?”

“Ehhh, I figured I'd play video games til lunch then head out to the field and practice my shots anyway. It'll probably get old fast but I want out of the house.”

“Can I come? Rika is on a trip with her family and Mayu is home sick. I'll be your ball return.”

“Ha, sure.”

The twins occupied themselves until lunch. Isshin came in from the clinic. They waited, but Ichigo didn't show up. Karin grumbled and took out her phone to text him.

“He says he's skipping out. They fell behind. Says he'll grab something when he has a chance.”

Yuzu scowled. “He can't just skip meals like this.” She stalked over to the table and set a platter of sandwiches down with a heavy thunk. “That's it, I'm making bento for him from now on. I'll put it on his shoes overnight if I have to.”

“Ah, Yuzu, you're so thoughtful,” cooed Isshin.

After lunch, the girls put on warm clothes and walked to the park.

“Ah, it went cold again. Guess the cherry trees won't bloom early after all,” Yuzu murmured, entertaining herself by watching her breath fog the air while Karin bent to double-knot her shoelaces.

“Hmm, it's probably for the best.” Karin stood and jumped a few times to stretch. “Let's do this!”

With Yuzu's cheerful presence, Karin was able to avoid boredom for a solid hour. Eventually, the cold air and slick grass became too bothersome for her-- or so she said; she actually noticed Yuzu shivering. She called it quits and bundled her soccer ball into its carrying net.

“Hey, wanna go get a hot drink? We haven't been to the café by the middle school yet.”

An hour later found the girls aimlessly strolling around town while sipping chocolatey hot coffee. They had just come in sight of the Sunflower Sewing Shop south of the high school when they caught sight of orange hair just before it disappeared behind a building.

“Was that Ichi-nii?” Karin wondered.

Yuzu's face went fierce. “If it was, I want to give him a piece of my mind. Going without breakfast or lunch. He should know better.”

Yuzu set off at a trot, Karin soon on her heels. They reached the main street just in time to see their brother turn a corner farther down the road. The girls hurried through the foot traffic and turned the corner. Once again, Ichigo darted down a side street.

Karin scowled. “Is he avoiding us?”

Yuzu let out a quiet _hmph_ of annoyance and threw her empty cup in a trash can. “Let's get him.”

Karin copied her and tucked her soccer ball under one arm. “Yeah.”

They set out at a run this time, determined to catch up with him. By the time they came within shouting distance, the three were nearing the high school. The girls shouted for their brother, but he didn't seem to hear them. He just kept walking, stride long yet somewhat unsure, as though looking for something. Not wanting to lose him again, the girls put on an extra burst of speed.

Karin grabbed his sleeve when they ran up to him. “Dammit, Ichi-nii, didn't you hear--?” She cut herself off mid-word to dodge an elbow. “What was that for?!”

Ichigo blinked at the girls. After a long moment, he said, “Ah. Sorry. You startled me.” He stared at them, then turned and started walking away again.

“What the hell?! We've been trying to catch up to you and you walk away?!”

“Onii-chan, that's rude!”

Distractedly, Ichigo said, “Ah. Sorry. I have to go somewhere.”

“You have a job?” asked Yuzu.

“Sure.” The girls looked at each other. That was an odd way to answer the question. “You can come with, if you want.”

The girls perked up and fell into step on either side of him.

“Onii-chan, you really can't run out without eating anymore. It's not healthy.”

“Sure.”

“You won't do it anymore?”

“I won't do it anymore.”

Yuzu squinted at him suspiciously. “Promise?”

“Sure.” Ichigo looked around. They were behind the high school, by an alley that ran behind some shops. Instead of heading for the shops, Ichigo turned toward the far corner of the high school property and aimed for the utility buildings.

“Um, Ichi-nii, what are you doing?” asked Karin.

“I got a call. I need to do something.”

“Over here?” she asked doubtfully.

“Yeah.”

They passed the utility buildings and came to the fenced-off portion of campus the school rented out for a cell phone tower. All three looked up at the looming column.

“A call? Is this your idea of a joke, Ichi-nii?” drawled Karin.

Yuzu shivered. “This isn't funny, Onii-chan. Let's go home. I'm cold.”

Ichigo shrugged off his jacket and dropped it over Yuzu's shoulders. “Here. I won't need it anymore.”

Yuzu drew it close to her and looked up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I won't need it where I'm going,” he said calmly. He promptly climbed the chain link fence and hopped down on the other side.

“And where the hell do you think you're going in there?” snarked Karin.

Ichigo turned to face his sisters, looking their direction without really focusing on them.

Yuzu froze, face white.

Face cheerfully relaxed, Ichigo answered, “Soul Society. Do you want to come with?”

Karin reared back, baffled. “How do you expect to get there from--?!”

“I understand if you don't want to. I know you don't need me anymore.”

“W-what?!”

“K-karin.” Yuzu wanted to scream, but it came out as a strained, keening whisper. She leaned forward and clutched at the chain link to hold herself up, knees weak. “ _Karin_. His neck. Look at his _neck_. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

Karin looked from her sister to her brother. Just as Ichigo turned away, she saw it: a green symbol stamped on his neck. This one looked like a stylized radio tower with little zig-zagging bolts radiating out from the top, a simple camellia overlapping its base.

_The appearance of the Witch's Kiss signifies that the victim has been completely ensnared by the Witch._

_ No. No no no no no. _

_The humans in the jūreichi generally have at least slightly elevated reiatsu, so Witches would have to expose more of themselves to successfully lure someone._

Ichigo no longer had even a minor buffer of his own elevated reiatsu. It was gone. He was completely open to attack. He was probably the most vulnerable person in Karakura.

_Witches do lure humans into their labyrinths to eat them whole, but they often eat souls after they use their seals to command humans to commit suicide._

A Witch had enchanted her big brother and was going to make him kill himself before it ate his soul.

Over Karin's dead body.

Karin roared and threw herself at the fence as Ichigo walked purposefully toward the tower. She got tangled in her own soccer ball net for a moment, then dropped from the top and charged at her brother. Yuzu had never climbed a fence in her life, but Karin's movement spurred her into action. Desperation and adrenaline proved to be excellent teachers. Yuzu discarded her brother's jacket and was soon scrabbling over the fence behind her sister.

Karin sprinted up to her brother and grabbed his left arm. “Ichi-nii! Ichi-nii, stop! Listen to me!”

Ichigo glanced at her, frowned, shrugged his left arm, and used his right fist to punch Karin square in the jaw. Blood instantly filled her mouth as her teeth sliced her cheek.

_They can't be reasoned with. They will use force if you interfere with the orders the Witch has given them._

Karin shrieked and writhed on the ground, hands holding her face. Ichigo looked down at her for a moment as though she was vaguely interesting at best, then turned back toward the tower. Karin rolled to her hands and knees and let her mouth hang open to release a stream of blood. She looked up and saw Yuzu hopping down from the fence. They made eye contact. Karin wildly pointed at their brother-- _go after him, he's more important._

Yuzu ran right past Karin just as Ichigo grabbed the first rung of the tower's built-in ladder. She sped up and tackled him from behind, arms wrapping around his middle.

“Onii-chan! Stop it! Don't!” she cried.

Ichigo frowned again. “Let go.”

“No! Please, Onii-chan, please, stop!” Yuzu wailed.

Ichigo wiggled a bit trying to dislodge her, but she was clinging to him like a limpet and his elbows were at just the wrong angle to bring them to bear. He paused for a moment, then started to climb with his much lighter sister still weighing him down. Terror flooded Yuzu when her feet left the ground. She tried jerking back and forth to jostle his grip, but while his spiritual powers had fled his physical strength had not.

“Yuzu! Let go!”

“I'll fall!”

“You're only like five feet up. Let go!”

“But Onii-chan!”

“Let go!”

Yuzu complied. She overbalanced, twisted her leg, and fell on her rear.

“Get out of the way!”

Yuzu didn't think, she just rolled aside. Then she looked back at Karin.

Karin stood once more. Her bloodied face was furious. She had removed her soccer ball from its net and held it in preparation for a drop kick. She wound up and kicked the ball straight at her brother. It nailed him in the right shoulder and bounced away. He shook it off and climbed another rung.

Yuzu was scrambling to fetch the ball for another try before Karin's yell for it was all the way out of her mouth. She threw it back to Karin, who wound up again.

“Sorry, Ichi-nii,” she mumbled. Karin kicked the ball. Her aim was true. It hit Ichigo in the back of the head, causing him to immediately hit his forehead on a ladder rung. His body went limp in unconsciousness and he fell backwards. Yuzu managed to throw herself to the ground and slide behind him in time to keep his head from hitting the ground, too.

The schoolyard fell silent save for the girls' panicked gasps for air. Neither moved for a long minute. Then Yuzu sobbed and clutched Ichigo's shirt to drag him up into her lap more. She fussed with his hair and the nasty bruise on his forehead for lack of anything else to do. Karin staggered toward her siblings and looked down at them. It struck her that her brother looked much younger with his face relaxed in unconsciousness. She saw the Witch's Kiss still lurid against her brother's throat. Knees wobbling, she let herself fall and crawled toward her brother. Karin covered the Witch's Kiss with her palm, shuddered at the cloying, cursed feel to it, and flared her reiatsu as high as she could. The sound of shattering glass came from beneath her hand. Ichigo's neck was unblemished when Karin removed her hand. Only then did she allow herself to cry. Shaking, she draped herself over his chest and listened to his heart beating.

Perhaps fifteen seconds later, the girls looked up at the sharp sound of displaced air that heralded shunpo. Kisuke Urahara was perched on the corner of the chain link fence, the cane that concealed his sword poised to strike as he searched for an enemy. He relaxed just as Jinta and Ururu appeared, each also holding a weapon at the ready.

Urahara gravely regarded the cluster of siblings on the ground. “Karin. Yuzu. Are you all right?” Karin pulled herself upright once more. Both crying girls nodded. Urahara focused on Karin. “What happened? I've never sensed you raise your reiatsu that high. I didn't sense a Hollow.”

Karin sniffed hard and wiped her nose and mouth to stall. If Kisuke Urahara couldn't sense a Witch nearby when there obviously was one... Kyubey was right. The shinigami couldn't protect them from Witches. Couldn't protect her brother from Witches. And she wasn't going to piss off the only being who could give her access to the means to do so herself by snitching. “H-hollow,” she finally sniffled. She winced at the tugging against the wound in her cheek.

Yuzu tilted her head and looked at her sister out of the sides of her eyes. Karin stared back unflinchingly. A lifetime of silent communication paid off: Yuzu would play along and talk it over later.

Urahara frowned. “How strange. My sensors didn't pick up anything.” He really looked at Karin. “It hit your face?”

Karin thought fast. It was probably going to be obvious a human fist had nailed her. Well, that would shape the lie, then. Better start practicing. “I-it punched me. It was shaped like a p-person.”

The three from the Urahara Shop looked mildly alarmed.

Urahara's brow furrowed. “Scientifically speaking, I suppose an Arrancar could have the sense of self and awareness of its powers to enable it to conceal its reiatsu.”

 _Thank you, weird spirit science_ , thought Karin.

Urahara looked around. “Why are you inside this fence?” He hopped down and approached the siblings, then bent and felt for Ichigo's pulse. Satisfied with that, he hovered a glowing green hand over the teenager's head, evaluating injuries.

“Um.”

“It threw me,” squeaked Yuzu. All attention turned to her. “I couldn't-- I couldn't really see it very well, of course, but it threw me in here and I hurt my leg. Then Karin and Onii-chan climbed the fence. It hit Karin's face. Onii-chan... couldn't see anything, but... but he tried to help. And it hit his head and threw him against the t-tower.” She paused to sniffle. “S-so Karin got her ball and did that glowy thing she does.”

Urahara swung hard eyes back on Karin. “Did you break the mask? Did the Hollow disintegrate?”

Karin hurriedly nodded an affirmative.

Urahara sighed and stood up. “Good job, Karin. You likely saved all of your lives. You've gotten stronger.” He looked at Yuzu. “And you were able to see at least some of it?”

“Um, yes?”

“Hmmm. Both of your powers seem to be maturing sooner than your brother's did. You're girls, though, so I suppose that is to be expected.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Karin asked suspiciously.

“Girls mature faster than boys,” Ururu murmured. She glanced sideways at Jinta and expressionlessly continued, “In everything.”

Jinta scowled. “Hey!”

Urahara clapped for attention. “Let's go to the shop and get everyone fixed up. I'll take Ichigo. You kids help the girls.”

Jinta hopped down. “I'll help Yuzu!”

Karin and Ururu rolled their eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was at the Urahara Shop. Urahara carefully healed Ichigo's head while Tessai healed Yuzu's leg and Karin's face. Jinta brought a still-shivering Yuzu some hot chocolate and fawned over her. Soon, everyone was sitting around while Urahara continued to heal Ichigo's apparent concussion.

At length, Urahara addressed the girls again. “I don't think your brother will react well if he remembers this. Him not being able to protect you, I mean.”

After a long silence, Karin responded, “I think you're right, but what of it? Are you suggesting using a modifier on him?”

“Perhaps,” replied Urahara. “Or perhaps the concussion will have taken care of that for us. We'll just need an excuse for how he ended up unconscious.”

Another few moments passed. “Um,” Yuzu began hesitantly. “Um, Onii-chan worked late last night and left for work without much breakfast and didn't eat lunch because he was too busy working more. He was running around town. C-could we say he passed out because of that?”

Urahara's eyebrows lifted. He turned back to Ichigo and performed another diagnostic kidō. “Well, well. His blood glucose really is a bit low. How convenient. He may have been muddled before the attack, even.”

Karin snorted and said with forced humor, “Only Ichi-nii could stumble into a situation in which hypoglycemia is convenient.”

Urahara sat back on his heels. “Well, I think I'll leave the healing where it is. He's in no danger now and you can say he must have hit his head when he passed out. Let's get him to your father's clinic and have him treat the hypoglycemia. It'll make it all more plausible.”

Soon Urahara and the girls were in the lobby of the Kurosaki Clinic. Isshin cheerfully popped into the room but instantly sobered. Urahara played humble Good Samaritan shopkeeper with a zany smile while his serious eyes held Isshin's. They would have words later.

Ichigo woke an hour later. Disoriented, he looked around the room. Slowly, he realized he was in a bed in his father's clinic, hooked up to an IV. Both of his sisters were curled up in bed with him, one clinging to each of his sides in their sleep. He blearily looked around the room again. This time, his father appeared at the foot of his bed, looking grim.

“Old Man?” Ichigo croaked.

“How's your head?” asked Isshin. The girls stirred.

“Um.” Ichigo closed his eyes, scrunched his face, and squinted at his father. “Hurts. What happened?”

“What's the last thing you remember?”

“Uhhhhhh.” Ichigo looked at the ceiling. “I got a call. I was supposed to go somewhere...? Crap, I forget. What happened?”

Isshin sighed. “The girls found you passed out on a side street when they were on their way home from the park. A shopkeeper helped bring you home. Your blood sugar was low. I think you passed out from hypoglycemia and hit your head.”

Ichigo grimaced. “I remember feeling kinda weird.”

“Hungry?” Isshin asked with dry significance.

Ichigo winced. “Yeah.” He sighed forcefully. “How embarrassing.” He looked down at his sisters. “Shit, and the girls found me? Damn.”

Isshin smirked wryly. “I don't care if Yuzu tries to force-feed you, you'll sit and take it. You gave them quite a scare.”

Ichigo lowered his head. “Sorry.”

Dinner was deeply awkward that night. Yuzu cooked a feast and nearly buried Ichigo in food. Ichigo thought it was a reaction to his hypoglycemia and Isshin thought it was an after-effect of fear of the alleged Hollow, but Karin knew it was largely an expression of nerves while her sister feverishly thought about Witches and magical girls and the risks to their brother, the same as she was doing.

Everyone went to bed early for once. Karin and Yuzu lay in their room, rigid and agitated as they waited for the men of the house to fall asleep.

Finally, Yuzu blurted out, “We need to do it.”

Karin grimly stared at the ceiling. “Yeah. There's a Witch out there and Ichi-nii is a sitting duck.”

“No one can help us.”

“We have to help ourselves.”

Yuzu fidgeted with her covers. “When Onii-chan told us about becoming a shinigami, he said the chance to protect Rukia and everyone outweighed the risks. I-- I think I understand what he meant now.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause. Finally, Yuzu asked, “What do we wish for?”

Karin chewed her lip. “Even if Kyubey _could_ restore Ichi-nii's powers, I don't think he would. And I think he wouldn't contract us if he knew how close we are to shinigami. He hates shinigami too much. So that's out.”

“And we can't bring back Mom.”

“Mm. If only.”

Yuzu huffed. “This is hard.”

They talked about wishes until they fell asleep.

The next morning started fairly normally. Yuzu bullied Ichigo into eating a big breakfast, Isshin monologued to Masaki's poster, and everyone went their separate ways. The girls shared a determined look, got their things together, and headed to the train station without asking for permission to travel far. If there was ever a case for asking forgiveness rather than permission, this was it.

An hour later, they disembarked at Kyubey's station and sought its rafter. It was perched in the same place as before, apparently asleep. It twitched and looked down at them when they drew close.

 _Oh, Karin, Yuzu. Have you made a decision? Or do you have more questions?_ It stretched languidly and stood.

“Let's do it,” Karin muttered.

Once again, Kyubey led them to the hidden duck pond. It perched on its rock, but the girls didn't bother sitting down, too tense.

“There's a Witch in Karakura,” Karin blurted out.

Kyubey blinked up at them. _My, my. I didn't actually think there would be much danger from Witches in Karakura._

“It targeted our brother,” Karin continued. “He had a Witch's Kiss on his neck. It tried to make him jump off a tower, but we stopped him.”

_Ah! Excellent work! That you can do that without contracting-- I wonder just how powerful you would be as magical girls._

“Yeah, well, I guess you're going to find out.”

Kyubey sat up taller. _You've decided on your wishes?_ it asked eagerly. The girls nodded. _Excellent!_

The girls looked at each other once more. Yuzu took a deep breath and looked at Kyubey. “Our wish is to be strong enough to protect the people of Karakura from Witches and Hollows.”

Kyubey cocked its head. _Both of you have the same wish?_ The girls nodded fiercely. _It's essentially power for power's sake._ It sounded curious.

“No, it's power for others' sake,” said Karin.

“We thought about it, and what we want is to protect people,” explained Yuzu. “That would happen no matter the wish we made, so we decided to focus on making sure we have enough power to fight _well_.”

“No point being magical girls if we're not strong enough to beat our enemies,” Karin finished wryly.

 _I see, I see_ , said Kyubey. _It's a bit unconventional, but not without precedent. I can grant that wish. Are you ready?_

The girls nodded. Kyubey sat tall and flung its floppy, rabbit-like ears out horizontally. The ears expanded and arched toward the girls, the tip of each hovering over their chests. Both girls gasped in pain as pinpricks of light formed over their hearts and expanded into egg-shaped orbs. It felt like something within them was being pulled, stretched to breaking, and hurriedly sewn back together. Neither could tell if she was hearing her sister's cries or if the pained sounds were in her own head. Moments stretched into eons of agony. It ended as suddenly as it had begun. A glittering gemstone floated in front of each girl. Before Kyubey could even speak, instinct made both reach out for her own gem, a steady thrum of _mine mine mine_ and need to hold it close echoing in their hearts.

 _Now, open yourself and accept it_ , Kyubey said with ceremonial reverence. _This is your destiny._

The girls cradled their newly-forged Soul Gems and fell to the ground.

They regained consciousness about fifteen minutes later. Kyubey still sat on the rock, patiently watching its tail swish. The girls slowly levered themselves upright and stared numbly at their Gems. Yuzu's was yellow and Karin's was red.

Karin looked up and Kyubey and slowly asked, “What now?”

Kyubey's eyes crinkled in an apparent smile. Y _ou can find Witches and their Familiars by observing how your Soul Gems react-- the closer you get to an enemy, the brighter they will glow. Whenever you want to transform, you have only to will it. When you defeat a Witch, use its Grief Seed to purify your Soul Gems and bring it to me to dispose of._

“How do we learn how to fight?” asked Yuzu.

 _Your magic will guide you_ , answered Kyubey.

“Oh, _that's_ not vague at all,” snarked Karin.

Kyubey tilted its head oddly in Karin's direction. _Every girl gets different weapons and powers. I can't be expected to teach infinite combinations of weapons and abilities to infinite girls. Fortunately, it's in your spiritual programming, so to speak. You'll understand when you get into a fight._

Karin hummed skeptically, held her Soul Gem up to the sun, and squinted at it. “Whatever you say. So we wander around where the Witch had our brother and use these gems like sparkly dowsing rods to find it?”

_Yes. Ah! It usually isn't as important to other magical girls, but you may want to try to limit yourself to transforming_ after _you enter a labyrinth. The transformation causes a surge of power that shinigami might be able to sense outside a pocket dimension. I don't want you to get caught._

Yuzu smiled wanly. “Oh, thanks for telling us, Kyubey!”

Karin looked at Kyubey from the sides of her eyes and lazily asked, “Anything else you want to tell us?”

 _No. That's it_ , it said cheerfully. _Now, go embrace your destinies and triumph over the Witches!_

Yuzu cheered.

“That was so hokey, oh my God,” Karin muttered.

They managed to get home in time to share a late lunch with Isshin and Ichigo, who Yuzu continued to bury in food. Ichigo griped about work but said at least he had been able to leverage the rest of the day off by telling his boss she had worked him to the point of passing out the day before. Soon Ichigo disappeared to his room to crash and Isshin was back in the clinic. The girls shared a significant look, told their father they were going out, and set off for the high school.

Hands shaking, Yuzu held her Soul Gem in her palm and watched it glow more brightly as they approached the cell phone tower. The girls shared a glance. Yuzu willed her Soul Gem to turn back into a ring and joined her sister in climbing the fence once more. Karin just had time to note that Urahara must have had her puddle of blood cleaned up when they began to hear an electrical hum grow louder in fits and starts. Visible bolts of electricity arced from tower to shed to fence.

Karin grinned with false bravado. “Oh, you know we're here, huh?” She looked around. “What're you gonna do about it?”

The top of the cell tower sparked. Electricity arced down the ladder, rung to rung to rung, and blasted the ground like a lightning bolt. A flat, translucent sigil like the one that had been on Ichigo's neck appeared floating vertically above the ground. Reality warped around its edges.

“Well, Yuzu, I think we're supposed to go in.” Karin turned to her sister.

Yuzu wrung her hands. “I'm scared.”

Karin looked down and bit her lip. “Me, too,” she said quietly. She looked up, determined. “But this thing almost killed Ichi-nii. And we can't let it get away. We made our decision. Now we have to follow through. There's no going back.” She held out her hand.

Yuzu took Karin's hand and squeezed. “Right. Right.” She swallowed hard and mimicked Karin's determined face. “Let's do this. Like Onii-chan fought for us.”

The girls marched through the portal holding hands.

The world that greeted them was chaotic. It was a jumbled cityscape whose buildings looked like cardboard cutouts. The sky was dark with acid green stars. High-tension power lines crisscrossed the sky. A multitude of telephone poles were strewn throughout at a far greater density than logically necessary. The telephone poles all listed at uneven angles. Bolts of electricity arced over the telephone wires at random intervals.

After taking a few moments to take it all in, Karin let go of Yuzu's hand and said, “Well, we'd better transform before something shows up.”

“R-right,” Yuzu agreed.

For a moment, both looked unsure. Then they were struck by an impulse that made each raise her Soul Gem and channel her power through it. Magic wrapped around them and altered their clothes. Their limbs felt stronger. The power crested and brought on a brief bout of euphoria-- for an instant, they felt invincible. The power settled down and steadied, leaving the girls changed.

Yuzu's costume was golden yellow and white. It had a circus ringmaster theme, a sleeveless yellow tailcoat over a sleeveless white blouse and a low yellow vest. The coat's tails were gathered and exaggerated into calf-length skirt-like frills behind her. Her arms were clothed with shoulder-length white gloves. A lacy white collar covered her neck and shoulders, a yellow bow tie exaggerated into a rosette shape at her throat. A large citrine shaped like an inverted, rounded triangle was nestled in its folds like a brooch. A small yellow top hat festooned with curled yellow and white ribbons was tied to her head with a white ribbon. Her ears held large citrine earrings. The outfit was completed by white leggings and low yellow heels. She held a golden whip in her right hand.

Karin's costume was red and cream. The main body was a form-fitting red sleeveless dress with a short, slightly ruffled skirt. Just beneath her bust was a red ribbon cinch. Over the skirt she wore a red kendo tare with silver rivets. Her arms bore cream detached sleeves, the billowy material with its red ribbon hems evoking a miko-like image. Red boots with silver rivets stopped just below her knees, the remainder of her legs covered by sheer dark tights. Her ponytail was tied with a puffy red bow. Ruby drop earrings, a red ribbon choker, and a ruby shaped like an inverted rounded triangle on her forehead rounded out her accessories. She held a simple katana in her right hand.

The girls looked themselves and each other over in surprise.

“Well, damn,” said Karin. “We look good. And I'm not a frilly mess.” She lifted her chin, preening. “Let's go kick some ass.”

Yuzu raised an arm uncertainly. “How am I supposed to use a whip?”

Karin shrugged, adrenaline soaring. “Dunno. I've never used a sword, either. Guess we'll figure it out.” With that, she marched down the nearest street.

Yuzu followed. “Where do we go?”

Karin stopped. She wished she was up higher so she could see better. Something niggled at the back of her mind. Before she could really think about it, she was hopping up onto one of the cardboard buildings as she had seen the shinigami do. She stopped and looked down at her feet as Yuzu shouted in surprise-- she was probably three stories up. “Huh. How about that.” She called down to Yuzu, “Hop on up! It's easy!”

Yuzu looked dubious, but to her surprise was soon standing next to her sister. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Awesome, right?” Karin put her fists on her hips and looked out at the labyrinth. “Now, where do we go from here?”

The girls surveyed the nightmare world. It was much the same in every direction, save for a massive radio tower in the distance. A glass plasma globe was stuck on top of it, the arcs of energy within it sickly green.

“Well, if that doesn't scream 'villain's lair,' I don't know what does,” Karin said drily.

Karin experimentally hopped to the next cardboard rooftop. Yuzu followed her more tentatively. Soon, they were running across the rooftops easily. When they were halfway to the tower, mechanical birds began to appear on the arcin **g** telephone lines. The f **a** rther they went, the thicker the flock **b** ecame. They were soon sur **r** ounded by the clicking and wh **i** rring of tiny gears, a multitude of digitiz **e** d voices saying “piroripara pirirora” in **l** ieu of chirping. The uneasiness the girls felt about the creatures proved correct when the birds started dive-bombing them.

With no time to think, the girls simply reacted. Karin's initial swings of her sword would have been more at home on a baseball diamond and Yuzu initially used the handle of her whip as a bludgeon, but they quickly began to refine their movements. Magic-fuelled instinct thrummed through them. The battle was fast-paced, but seemed almost slow to the girls. It was as though their magic provided each with an instinctual guide, a silent voice whispering instruction and nudging their bodies into the correct positions with gentle hands-- _shift your grip like so-- better if your wrist is less rigid-- more power if you swing like so-- stab, slash, stab, twist-- breathe-- twitch sharply to wrap around its neck-- use the enemy as a flail until it breaks-- slam arm back to use hilt as bludgeon--_

The running battle left a trail of broken clockwork behind them as they bounced from roof to roof. Soon, they found themselves on the last rooftops before the base of the tower. The remaining clockwork birds balked and retreated as though more afraid of the tower than the magical girls. Karin and Yuzu stood and watched the birds restlessly gather nearby, on guard as they caught their breath.

Unlike the solid column of the cell phone tower on the high school property in the real world, this tower was made of the more classic metal latticework. It looked like a cheap knockoff of the Eiffel Tower, spindly bare-bones steel reaching high in the sky. Green electricity arced over the steel at random intervals. A large plasma ball full of green arcs of energy crowned the tower. Pink warning lights pulsed at major joints of the structure. Something bulky hung clustered in the hollow of the tower just beneath the plasma ball.

Karin scratched her head. “So... what exactly are we supposed to fight? The last Witch was a tree.”

Yuzu chewed her lip. “It could be the whole tower. Or maybe the glowy thing up top.”

“Hmmmmm. I wonder if we'll get zapped if we climb it.”

“W-well, all we can do is try, I guess.”

“Right. I'll go first. I guess try to grab me with that whip if I fall.”

“Umm. I don't know if I can do that.”

“Sure you can. You were grabbing birds out of the air just now.”

“I don't know how I did that.”

“Well, instinct has worked for us so far.” Karin shrugged. “Here I go!”

With that, Karin leaped from cardboard rooftop to a narrow metal beam, stumbling a few steps before regaining her balance. She shifted uncertainly, looked around, and tensed when a small arc of electricity bounced toward her along the beam. Static buzzed over her skin as it passed, but she was not electrocuted. Reassured of relative safety, she waved her sister over. Both looked up at the dim interior of the tower.

“So. Climb?” asked Yuzu.

“I guess so.”

The girls started jumping upward from beam to beam. About halfway up, they noticed a mechanical hum growing louder as they climbed. Three quarters of the way up, the interior of the tower was flooded with light, small green and pink lamps lighting in sequence from top to bottom. The girls froze as the bulky thing at the top creaked into motion. They held their weapons defensively as the thing suddenly dropped and bounced slightly like a spider.

The thing was a bundle of overs **i** zed electronics tangled together with and **s** uspended by innumerable cords. Surge str **i** ps, CPUs, analog telephones, alarm clocks, keyboar **d** s, computer mice, speakers, cameras, cell ph **o** ne chargers, fax machines, modems, **r** outers-- all were jumbled **a** round a particularly large smart phone whose screen portrayed a glowing red eye with a flat black iris on a black background. The eye rolled around and _looked_ at each of the girls. Suddenly, the many speakers began blasting outrageously loud fax and modem sounds overlaid with human screaming as multiple extension cords shot out of the mass, their pronged plugs sharp and crackling with electricity.

The girls winced at the ear-splitting hellnoise. Yuzu dodged while Karin sliced the plugs off the cords directed at her, ignoring the sizzling shock that ran up her arms. The Witch launched more plugs and other small electronics their way. Karin dodged and sliced. Yuzu screamed and raised her arms to block her face. When nothing hit her, she peered over her arms. A glowing, translucent yellow shield made of three interlocked circles hovered in front of her and blocked everything that was hurled her way.

“How did you do that?!” Karin yelled. It was hard to hear her over the blood-curdling din.

“I don't know!”

“Dammit!” Karin bounced around in the tower, dodging and weaving. “We need a plan!”

Safe behind her shield, Yuzu took a moment to really look at the Witch and how it was all connected. After some thought, she yelled, “I have an idea!”

“Hit me!”

“Cut the cables it's hanging from! Then I'll do something, then you stab it in the eye!”

“Got it!”

Karin continued to jump around the tower, randomly darting up and slashing cables with yells of effort. Yuzu nervously shifted her grip on her whip as the Witch's attacks grew more frenzied. Just before Karin sliced the last cord, Yuzu lashed out with the whip, which extended at her will, and ensnared the central smart phone that seemed to be in control. Karin cut the final cord and the Witch dropped sharply. Yuzu braced herself and held on as best she could. The Witch snapped to a stop, bounced once, then most of its bulk fell away, leaving a charger cord dangling from the smart phone like a bare spine. Yuzu then used the recoil to launch the smart phone up at Karin, who dove down to stab its screen with a furious shout. The screen shattered, red light spilling from a spiderweb of cracks.

Everything seemed to hang still for a moment before a shock wave of power blew through the labyrinth. The tower and cardboard city wavered out of existence, leaving the two magical girls back in the cell phone tower enclosure at the high school. They stared dumbly at the Grief Seed that drifted down from the sky. Karin reached out and caught it. Both stared for a minute.

“We did it,” Karin whispered in disbelief.

“We did it,” Yuzu marveled.

“We did it!” they both shouted, laughing and hugging.

Karin gripped Yuzu's hands, elated. “We can do this. We can protect Ichi-nii!”

Yuzu grinned. “We really can keep him safe just like he kept us safe!”

Karin laughed proudly. “Being magical girls is gonna be _awesome_.”

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%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .  
>  ISIDORA, the Digital Witch with a spiteful nature. She seems silent and harmless, but will viciously tear her enemies apart behind their backs. You'll know you've pushed her too far when she actually speaks to your face.
> 
> Minion: Gabriel, whose duty is to maintain the Witch's digital network. They do not want the Witch to punish them for a dropped signal.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Ichigo's utter breakdown when Ginjo steals his Fullbring didn't come out of nowhere.
> 
> When transformed, the twins' Soul Gems are meant to be shaped like strawberries as a shout-out to their motive of protecting Ichigo. (Side note: Their wish to protect had the side-effect of granting them greater defense/resilience, so they can take more abuse with less damage-- such as not getting badly electrocuted.) Karin's costume has more traditional Japanese elements as she thinks the shinigami are pretty cool (to the point of on some level wanting to be one), and shinigami wear traditional Japanese clothes. Yuzu has a ringmaster/lion-tamer theme because she completely dominates Kon (a possessed lion plushie) and in the anime she's associated with that cat-ghost who could turn into a lion. Their theme colors come from being Karakura Red and Karakura Yellow in the joke chapters.
> 
> This Witch is a shout-out to Meru Otonashi from Sayonara Zetsubō Sensei. “Merumeru~ merumeru~ merumeru~ Piroripara pirirora!” Google the whole “pirori” thing if you want to hear the ringtone.
> 
> Anyone who wants to call bullshit on the cell phone tower placement: I went to a high school that actually did that to generate revenue. (~_~)
> 
> Con/crit Welcome. I love reviews. Let me know if I need to work on my action scenes.


	14. DREIZEHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reviewing! This is a bridge chapter. Back to talking this time.

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**DREIZEHN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

The twins sat quietly for several minutes, allowing Homura to digest all they had told her. Homura frowned down at the tabletop, mind whirling.

The Incubator had done a masterful job of luring the girls in. It had danced around the atrocious drawbacks to the contract and made the twins feel empowered while waxing philosophical about the human race in ways designed to confuse tweens. It was oddly forthcoming on the subject of wishes, though. What did it hope to accomplish by divulging so much information? Whatever it was, she was furious. At this point she was so cynical about the Incubator that she wouldn't put it past the monster to have another magical girl herd a Witch toward Karakura just to push the Kurosaki girls into a corner. Homura had seen how dogged it was in trying to convince Madoka to contract once it noticed her great potential. It wouldn't surprise her in the least to find out that it had gone to great lengths to get the twins to sign away their souls. And the twins had contracted too long ago for Homura to be able to save them in the next timeline. Even though the prospect of allying with them was promising, it made her feel powerless. How many girls had sold their souls to protect the people they loved over the course of millennia? It disgusted her that the Incubator preyed upon that selflessness. Her powerlessness to stop the cycle was frustrating beyond words.

Homura didn't know what to think about the Incubator's stated origins. The Incubator had told her in multiple timelines that its race was alien. She now questioned her own interpretation. It could have been one of its many misleading statements-- a spiritual race from another dimension would be alien to most magical girls, she supposed. Would have been alien to Homura herself even a few days ago. Had she fallen into a deliberate trap of misinterpreting "alien" as "extraterrestrial"? And while it still spoke of energy to the Kurosaki girls, it had apparently not mentioned countering entropy or preventing the heat death of the universe among its motives. Were the two angles mutually exclusive or did they overlap in ways she couldn't understand?

Also, this was the first she heard of an outside force hunting magical girls-- if that assertion could be believed at all. One thing was certain: The Incubator's sheer distaste and wariness of shinigami to the point of villainizing them made her very, very interested in them. Call it a forbidden fruit reflex, but she found her curiosity piqued. No matter what it said to turn their attention aside, the Incubator had asked the sisters to spy on the shinigami while taking pains to ensure they wouldn't turn around and tell the shinigami information about its system. Whether the shinigami actually posed a threat to magical girls was something Homura would have to investigate. A deep, quiet part of her mind wondered if shinigami were actually a threat to the Incubators themselves. She wasn't sure what to do with that thought.

Homura also found the Kurosaki girls' wish interesting. “To be strong enough to protect the people of Karakura from Witches and Hollows.” She wanted to know how broadly or narrowly their magic had interpreted it. Were they literally unable to be overpowered by a Witch? Or did they just get heightened defensive abilities? How was “strength” defined? Physical? Magical? Psychological? Did any advantage granted by the wish only apply in Karakura or while protecting someone from Karakura?

So much new information. So many new questions.

“Um, Homura?” Yuzu fidgeted. “Do you have any questions?”

Homura looked up, blinked owlishly, and tilted her head slightly left. She ran through the history they had given her. It was probably nitpicking, but... “Yes. Your brother. You said he was a powerful shinigami. How did the Witch ensnare him?”

The sisters winced. Karin cleared her throat. “Well, you see... You know the big war from a couple years ago we mentioned? With the shinigami trying to keep some nutjob from sacrificing all of us?” Homura nodded. “Our brother fought in that war.”

Homura frowned. “How old was your brother, then?”

“Only sixteen,” Yuzu said quietly. “He shouldn't have had to fight, but things were... complicated.”

“See, the traitor-- something-or-other Aizen-- had this trick he could do with his zanpakutō where, if you saw his shikai once, he could make you see detailed illusions whenever he wanted,” explained Karin. “It made him tough to beat-- he'd figured out how to show the trick to a lot of the strong leaders of the shinigami over the course of decades before they knew he was rotten to the core. So they'd try to attack him and he'd not really be there, or they'd attack an ally, or they'd get attacked and block wrong because they saw his sword in a different place than it was. It was a mess.”

“But Onii-chan was young and had only visited Soul Society once,” continued Yuzu. “He never saw Aizen's shikai, and he was as strong as the captains of the shinigami. Onii-chan was the only one who could really trust what he was seeing when he fought. So he had to fight. He wouldn't let Karakura be destroyed. He protected us.”

Karin scowled down at her empty soda can. “But Aizen had this weird thing that made him keep getting stronger. Ichi-nii knew that if he wanted to beat Aizen, he'd have to use all his power. So he did. Literally. He sucked at explaining it, but he and his zanpakutō did some weird finishing move that sacrificed all his reiatsu. Other things happened, but basically Ichi-nii gave up all his power to protect us.” Her lips drew into an angry line. “So he was defenseless.”

Ah. That clarified things. Reciprocal sacrifice. Homura wondered if the twins knew they had set themselves up for a similar end. But... “Was? Not is?”

Yuzu smiled. “It took a long time, but Urahara-san-- um, that really smart shinigami we mentioned who lives in Karakura instead of Soul Society-- he invented something to help give Onii-chan his powers back.”

“Couldn't be a pill or something. Nooo, had to be a sword. That's Urahara for you.”

“All the captains and lieutenants of the shinigami helped by putting some of their power into the sword and gave the power to Onii-chan to... kinda wake up his reiatsu. Like, if his reiatsu was cold coals, they sparked it back into a bonfire.”

“By stabbing him. From behind. With no advance warning. That's Urahara for you.”

Homura eyed the girls. “This Urahara sounds... ominous.”

The twins looked at each other and laughed shortly. Karin smirked. “Oh, I'm sure he can be terrifying in his own right when he wants to be. I haven't seen it myself, but Tōshirō says Urahara used to be a captain. That's enough to be wary around him. Ichi-nii says he is a cheerfully sadistic trainer. He puts up a goofy front kind of like our dad does. I think a lot of it is real, though. But when he starts waving his fan and going all 'oh, whatever do you mean, I am merely an innocent shopkeeper,' he's totally trolling. And if he can find a way to startle you out of your skin while helping you, he'll do it for kicks. But he's not vicious about it and actually knows when to pitch the goofy act.”

“Stabbing someone from behind isn't being vicious about it?” Homura deadpanned.

“Since it was immediately obvious what was going on, nope, not for Urahara,” said Karin. “I don't think he had planned for Ichi-nii to be in a bad situation when they gave him back his powers, so yeah, it probably wasn't in the best of taste considering the circumstances. But shinigami transfer powers to humans by stabbing them through the heart anyway so maybe he couldn't avoid being all stabby.”

Yuzu smiled wanly. “Onii-chan calls Urahara-san a mad scientist with a conscience. He says Urahara has done some, um...”

“Morally questionable.”

“Yeah, morally questionable things, but things Onii-chan didn't mind because he understood why he did them and would have cooperated if things were explained to him first. And he said Urahara-san apologized after.”

“What kind of things?” asked Homura.

The twins looked at each other.

“That's... a long story,” Karin hedged.

“So give me the short version,” Homura said bluntly.

Karin blinked at her. “Okay. Uh.” She rolled her eyes skyward in thought. “So, Ichi-nii's first visit to Soul Society was to rescue a shinigami who was in trouble for helping him by sharing her powers. Urahara knew that Aizen was bad before almost anyone else, but he didn't tell Ichi-nii and his friends about him. Or his special ability-- which was really stupid, in my opinion. Or that Aizen had made the government get pissed off at his shinigami friend because Urahara had secretly tried to hide something in her soul-- the special thingy I mentioned earlier that made Aizen keep getting more powerful. Aizen wanted Ichi-nii's friend Rukia because he wanted that thingy.”

Homura stared. “He hid something in her soul. Secretly.”

Karin winced. “Yeeeah. That was skeevy. But Ichi-nii and Rukia said they understood when Aizen got his hands on the thing and they saw the terrible things he could do with it. Ichi-nii said it was like Urahara and Aizen were playing chess to prevent or cause an apocalypse. Aizen wanted the thingy to destroy the world and Urahara wanted to destroy the thingy to save the world.”

Yuzu pensively played with her sleeve cuff. “I think part of Mr. Urahara's problem is that he thinks so far ahead of everyone else that he loses track of how far behind he's left them.”

“Some of the leaving people behind is deliberate, though. Or at least a choice he makes in certain circumstances.” Karin made a wry face between a grin and a grimace. “Ha, I can feel for him with Ichi-nii, though. Trying to make a sixteen-year-old boy learn Soul Society politics when he had a single-minded goal of plowing his way through Seireitei, grabbing Rukia, and strolling out would have been like trying to convince a farmer to study astrophysics.”

Homura bit her cheek for a moment. “Still.”

Karin sighed and shrugged. “Still.”

A few moments passed in awkward silence as they set aside the topic of the shinigami scientist.

Homura mulled over the things they had told her and backtracked. “So, you contracted to protect your brother. When did he get his powers back?”

The girls cringed. “A couple months after we contracted,” said Karin.

Homura sat back and looked at them in surprise. “So soon?”

“Yeah. He wasn't vulnerable for long. But we managed to protect him from things together for several weeks.”

“There was a time a few weeks after we contracted when a Hollow attacked me and my brother.” Yuzu looked down in shame. “I was still new and too scared to do anything without Karin there.” She looked up fervently. “But I got better after that!” She looked down again. “But by the time I was... confident enough to fight by myself, Onii-chan had his powers back.”

Karin slapped her sister's back. “It worked out. And we bagged another Witch in that time, so it was worth it. We kept him safe when he couldn't keep himself safe. That's all that matters.”

Yuzu smiled weakly at her sister, then turned to Homura. “Any more questions?”

“Hm. None that I can think of at the moment.”

“We should head back, then. I need to start dinner.”

“Oh!” Karin interrupted. “Homura, just so you know: Hollows are our excuses for if someone senses us do something with our power. You really obviously feel powerful enough to fight Hollows, so if someone questions you while you're here, talk as though Witches are Hollows.”

“That could be a good cover story for Mitakihara,” Yuzu suggested. “If anyone here suspects something supernatural where you come from, let them think it's Hollows. Then if they look into it, they won't be able to find the Witches and will think the Hollow moved on or was defeated.”

“Hey, great idea, Yuz!” cheered Karin.

The girls set out for the Kurosaki home. Homura let the twins chatter around her as she thought.

What would happen if shinigami investigated Mitakihara?

She wondered what the eccentric shinigami scientist would make of it all if he knew what to look for. From the story she had been told, he seemed to operate independently of the shinigami government. He could be a good place to start figuring out what modern shinigami thought of magical girls. She was wary of tipping her hand so far from her turnback point, though. Maybe she could give him a nudge a day or two before Walpurgisnacht? It was something to consider, anyway.

It had been awhile since she had so many new ideas. It was both heady and frightening.

Soon, Homura quietly helped Karin sweep and tidy the clinic as Isshin made sure the day's charts and paperwork were in order while Yuzu cooked dinner. Observing father and daughter bickering and teasing and laughing was... pleasant. Less lonely. She liked it. They were still confusing, but she liked them.

Dinner was spirited among the Kurosaki family. While Homura still chose not to speak much, she did actively pay attention to the conversation this time. The others noticed and carefully tossed an occasional question her way. Nothing personal; just little offers of involvement like _wasn't that stupid?_ and _do you think this sauce would taste good with chicken?_ Homura always hesitated a moment before answering and her replies were always brief, but it was improvement the Kurosaki family was generally happy with.

After they ate, Isshin cleared his throat to stop Homura and Karin from gathering the dishes. “Sit back down, girls. I want to talk.”

Karin and Homura shared a wary glance and complied.

Isshin settled his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers for a moment as he thought how to begin. He cleared his throat again and began to speak.

“I've been keeping an eye on the news out of Mitakihara on and off through the day. It doesn't look good. Especially the stuff that came out just before you came back.” He watched Homura stiffen and her face shut down into a cold mask. “The police are finding more odd things and disappearances, even in nearby towns. And the media is camped out by your school.” He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “What I want to say is that I'm concerned for your safety should you go back to your home. If you want to stay here while the police figure things out, you are welcome in our house. At the very least through the weekend. If things don't look safer by Sunday afternoon, you can stay longer. A few days, a week, it doesn't matter. What matters is your safety.” Isshin noted the surprise on Homura's face. “Now, I would want to speak with your uncle and you will need to contact your school again. Whether you arrange for leave or home study, you need to let the school know where you are. How does that sound?”

Homura opened and closed her mouth a few times before she gathered herself and bowed her head politely. “I would appreciate that very much, Dr. Kurosaki. Thank you.”

Isshin grinned slightly and sat back. “Just so you know, the girls' brother will be visiting this weekend. He just started at university a few weeks ago and comes home on weekends. He'll get here tomorrow afternoon and leave Sunday evening. Will that be a problem?”

Homura shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Bah, you don't need to sir me,” Isshin laughed and waved her off.

Karin was grinning and Yuzu positively beamed. “Thank you so much, Daddy!”

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. How long had it been since Homura took the time to sit down and just snack and watch anime? The first time Karin tucked a stick of Pocky in the corner of her mouth and held the box out to offer her some, Homura was vividly reminded of Kyōko. When Yuzu sat with her and coaxed her into a halting conversation while Karin enthusiastically battled video game monsters, she thought of Kyōko once again. She suddenly wished she could introduce Karin and Kyōko-- sarcastic, blunt, aggressive, tenderhearted beneath the surface, gamers-- they'd probably get on like a house on fire. Whether that would be entertaining or terrifying was anyone's guess.

Hypothetical meetings between the two danced at the edge of her mind as she readied herself for bed. Still, from the time Isshin had made his offer of refuge and the moment her eyes slipped shut, her mind buzzed with a steady thrum of possibilities. Isshin had given her the perfect excuse to stay in Karakura and investigate the potential opportunities presented to her. She would be a fool not to seize it with both hands.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next time: Newspaper articles and a curious Urahara.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews. :)


	15. VIERZEHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, hey, look, the rest of this chapter just fell together. INFODUMP! Plus Urahara and Kurotsuchi being... Urahara and Kurotsuchi.
> 
> PMMM CANON NOTICE: Characters mentioned from Kazumi Magica only refer to certain parts of their plots. DON'T WORRY IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE SPINOFF MANGA. (They are available online if you Google them, though.) For now, I'm just using the spinoff characters' disappearances and deaths to make the situation look more serious. If I actually bring them into the plot-- and I have my hands full so I'm not sure yet if I will-- it will be off in the future and I'll explain everything.

§ x § x §

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**VIERZEHN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

“Interesting.”

Kisuke Urahara stared at his computer monitor in fascination, idly snacking on candy in its blue glow. Something odd was definitely happening in and around Mitakihara. He could tell that much from the feverish press coverage. Kisuke had initially pored over the existing articles during lunch, memorizing the known facts, the speculation, and taking notes on the strangest angles to look at. At first blush, it looked like something sinister but entirely human was going on up north. Ever the scientist, Kisuke refrained from drawing any conclusions as yet. He set about researching the Mitakihara area history and demographics while he waited for the local authorities and press to gather more information. His own network of spiritual sensors didn't extend anywhere near Mitakihara, so he attempted to acquire relevant data via remote access to the Twelfth Division's databases. Evidently they had upgraded since his last foray because his presence was flagged and he ended up engaged in a thoroughly entertaining hacking-battle-slash-chat with Mayuri Kurotsuchi himself for the entire afternoon. (Really, he had no clue human emoticons would infuriate the man so much. Bless the internet.) At some point-- dinner time, coincidentally-- Kisuke decided to abruptly quit playing with Kurotsuchi and turn to the local news over the past several months looking for anything strange. Spotting Hollow activity among mundane news could be difficult, but you could find some if you knew what to look for. He was currently trawling conspiracy theory and supernatural web sites for mentions of Mitakihara and Kazamino-- such sites were often exaggerated and way off base, but sometimes steered one toward information unavailable or dismissed by mainstream media.

\-----

username: BakaBakenekoKyo

subject: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Hey you guys you know that thing with all the ppl waking up in a tv station with ammonia and bleach like they were gonna commit suicide together but they don't remember getting there? Something like that happened to me up in Asunaro like 6 months ago. I posted about it back then. [link] I was wandering around this abandonned inn in the old part of town with my camera to see if I could catch any orbs or something. A lot of ppl here stay away from the place cuz it feels weird. The place felt really creppy, like someone was watching me. I started to feel dizzy by the stairs. I must have blacked out because next thing I knew I was on the 2nd floor in a dusty room. I was on the floor with my back to a window and a girl was taking a curtain cord off from around my neck and saying stuff like everything would be alright and I was safe. I kinda freakked out all over her. I was weak so the girl helped me get out. I never saw her again. The next day I noticed the memory card was gone from my camera. The girl didn't look like the pictures of that Madoka girl who saved the tv station ppl but she did kinda the same thing. It just seems weird.

 

username: deathlyhallowed

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

i live further south in shinchi. in march i was filming with nightvision camera in an old warehouse on old pier that isn't used anymore. theres lots of stories about it being haunted by sailors ghosts but i never found anything until last time. it felt super creepycrawly and i felt like someone was gonna grab me you know? i remember feeling dizzy and my vision going weird. next thing I know some girl is dragging me onto the beach. when i was done throing up water she said she saw me jump off the pier. i started bawling cos id never do that-- i saw my little cousin drown once and even though he lived it was terrible i never wanna die that way-- and i was coughing lots still so she said she'd help me get to the road and get hewlp and she said she;d say she saw me FALL off if anyone asked her. so she got me to the street and someone called for an ambulence and she disappeared before it came. i still had my camera strapped to my wrist but of course it was wrecked by seawater. so i dunno what happened but all this stuff made me think of it again. is there ghosts that make people try to kill theirselves?

 

username: ghostlyscholar101

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Perhaps some kind of vengeful ghost, or even a demonic entity? I wonder if possession is involved. I'd suggest going back to these locations with a larger group to investigate, but if the possessing spirit is homicidal, that may not be wise.

 

username: BakaBakenekoKyo

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

OMG You think maybe I was possessed?! Wow. I don't know if that's cool or terrifying. How manny ppl can say they were possessed? Trying to make me hang myself was evil tho.

 

username: deathlyhallowed

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

like hell am i going back to that pier. someone else can go if they want. i can give a map. but srsly, ill stick with ghosts that DONT make me try to die a horrible death thanks

 

username: yuureiseeker

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

I live in Kazamino City. In February I was in a burned out restaurant that had exploded a year ago but no one ever bought. The owner died in the fire. People say it's haunted because they found out the owner was trying to burn the place down for insurance money to pay a loan or something and he screwed up and killed himself too so his angry spirit haunts the place. I was wandering around trying to catch some EVP when I felt dizzy and faint. My sight went black. When I came to, I was in the empty lot behind the car repair shop next door, sitting on the ground covered in motor oil. A girl had her hands around mine and was shouting at me and shaking me to wake up. When I did she let go and I found out I had my cig lighter out and had been trying to strike it. So I had doused myself in oil and was in the process of lighting myself on fire.

 

username: BakaBakenekoKyo

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

OH MY GOD

 

username: deathlyhallowed

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

HOLY SHIT MAN WTF

 

username: yuureiseeker

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

I still don't know where that girl came from. It was dark but I could tell she was wearing a frilly dress. It seemed out of place. I think I passed out again. When I woke up again, the girl was hosing me off. I don't really remember how I got home or where she went.

 

username: ghostlyscholar101

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Did you pick up any EVP?

 

username: yuureiseeker

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Negative. Just the sounds of me scuffling around and muttering to myself between the sounds of doors and drawers. I guess when I was nabbing oil from the mechanic shop. I don't remember that. And the girl yelling at me to wake up.

 

username: paranormalcy

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

I have encountered some messed up stuff in my time but that is just f***ed up man. We got some creepypasta shenanigans all up in here.

 

username: gravewatcher44

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Whys it always a girl helps the suicidals?

 

username: BakaBakenekoKyo

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

“suicidals” is rude

 

username: yuureiseeker

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

valid question tho

 

username: Kitsune-chan9

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Oh hey did you read the news that just came out about that hostess lady who woke up with the three missing girls and she thought they saved her from suicidding? That she kinda remmembered being on top of the building but doesnt know how she got down by the girls and her shoes were gone? That was freakyyyy.

 

username: paranormalcy

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Yeah, I just read about it. There's a new update-- the cops went there to investigate and found the shoes on the edge of the roof. The building had junk on the floors but the woman's feet weren't injured from walking down barefoot. Sooo...???

 

username: deathlyhallowed

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat

\-----

Kisuke raised an eyebrow, tabbed back to the main news site, and refreshed it.

Oh. There had been quite a few updates since he last looked. Before he logged out-- and he did have accounts on many paranormal sites just because-- he replied to the thread.

_username: SoulCandy_

_subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation_

_Does anyone know of any other incidents like this? It sounds really interesting._

That done, he opened a new packet of gummy candies and read the news.

\-----

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?

AUTHORITIES RELEASE SKETCH OF MYSTERY GIRL IN MIKI CASE

_April 22, 20XX 03:15 PM_

Mitakihara Municipal Police have released surveillance footage and an artist's rendering of the mystery girl known to have been staying in the room where Miki Sayaka (14) was found dead yesterday evening. Hotel Nikko Mitakihara employees worked with forensic sketch artists through the night to produce the image seen at right.

Estimated age: 14-16 years

Build: slender/athletic

Estimated height: 155-160cm

Hair color: dark red

Eye color: dark red

Clothing: Almost always seen wearing cutoff denim shorts, a sea green zippered jacket with white hood and cuffs, a short black undershirt, and brown knee-high boots. Her waist-length hair has only been seen tied up into a ponytail or half-ponytail with a black ribbon.

Hotel employees generally report that the girl kept to herself and went out for extended periods during the day and night. They say she preferred to avoid staff and could come across as brash or rude if drawn into conversation, but that she tipped well. Housekeeping reports that the girl frequently left a mess of empty food bags and wrappers in her room for cleanup each morning. The housekeeper assigned to her floor for the morning shift noted that usually, the girl would be gone and leave the room to be cleaned up by nine. Unusually, the girl left the “do not disturb” placard on the door on the morning she was last seen leaving the hotel. Sayaka Miki's body would be discovered roughly nine hours later when the room was opened by security as a precaution due to a minor fire which spread smoke throughout that floor. (See: Laptop Battery Fire Leads Hotel Security to Dead Body [link])

Police Spokeswoman Mura once again emphasizes that the mystery girl is considered a person of interest and a potential victim. Though unidentified, the girl is designated as missing, the same as Mami Tomoe and Madoka Kaname. Anyone who knows who she is or has seen her in the past two weeks and especially the past two days are asked to call the tip line at XXX-XXXX.

\-----

A TANGLED WEB!

MYSTERY EXPANDS AS ADDITIONAL DISAPPEARANCES DISCOVERED

GIRLS ALSO MISSING/DEAD IN NEARBY JURISDICTIONS

ARE STRANGE SUICIDES RELATED?

_April 22, 20XX 05:00 PM_

The collaborative investigation between Mitakihara Municipal Police and the Kazamino City Police Department has rapidly turned up disturbing developments on an unexpected scale.

The initial focus of the joint investigation was to obtain surveillance footage of the purchase of the prepaid credit card used to reserve the Hotel Nikko Mitakihara room in which the body of Sayaka Miki (14) was found yesterday evening. The card was purchased with cash at a convenience store in western Kazamino City. Video quality is poor, but appears to show the unidentified red-haired girl from Hotel Nikko Mitakihara's lobby security cameras making the purchase. The card was not found among evidence collected at the hotel room. A transaction history for the card shows purchases of food and toiletries before and during the girl's stay at the hotel, both in Kazamino City and Mitakihara. Police are investigating the sites of each purchase in hope of learning more about this girl.

Another aspect of the joint investigation was the fingerprints tied to the hotel room and two “break-and-bust” ATM robberies in eastern Mitakihara. A long string of identical robberies has been found to have taken place throughout Kazamino City over the last fifteen months. The Kazamino City fingerprints match the Mitakihara fingerprints. In all cases, something rapidly destroyed the embedded security camera from above before the machine was pried open with something large and sharp.

These developments were not particularly surprising. However, another angle of the case has uncovered a distressing series of similar disappearances and deaths of girls between the ages of eleven and sixteen in Kazamino City. While it is unknown whether all cases are related, there are striking similarities among them.

The body of Bethany Michaels (13), daughter of a United States Marine who relocated to Kazamino City with his family to be an English teacher after discharge from his duties in Okinawa, was discovered collapsed in front of the altar of a Catholic church on the morning of April 14th, hands folded in prayer. Her body had obviously been beaten pre-mortem, but coroners determined that her wounds should not have been fatal. Her cause of death remains undetermined. As with the missing Kaname and dead Miki, her parents reported that Michaels had displayed increasing signs of distress over the week before her death. In another similarity, her Bible study classmate Marina Sakamoto (12) went missing the same night.

On the morning of April 3rd, the remains of Saki Yamaha (15) were found on a carousel at a local theme park. As in the Miki case, no security footage shows how she gained entry to the park. Cameras within the park are largely focused on vending stalls. Similar to the Momoe case the next day, the entire video system suddenly failed for several hours overnight. Yamaha's body was discovered by a park cleanup crew shortly after dawn. Autopsy found no injuries and no apparent cause of death, as in the Miki case. She was thought to have been depressed after an altercation with her boyfriend and had been missing since lunchtime on April 2nd. The boyfriend told authorities that the carousel was a sentimental place for the two of them. This may explain her ultimate location, but her cause of death remains a mystery.

Noriko Chiasa (16) was last seen on March 29th. She is the class representative for her first year high school class. Meticulous and responsible, Chiasa was known to be dedicated to her office to the point of obsession. Investigation found that many of the “late club meetings” she told her parents about seemed to not exist, though. It is unknown what she did instead during that time. Chiasa's parents reported that their daughter seemed to become gradually more agitated and tired. Some prodding of her classmates revealed irritation with Chiasa's micromanaging and an admission of a confrontation in a classroom the afternoon she went missing. No one has seen her since she stormed out of the school, upset. Police initially designated her case as a runaway, but they are reconsidering it in light of similar circumstances in the Miki case.

There are also several cases which don't fit the pattern of the missing and dead girls, but which have some similarities to the Mitakihara television station mass-hallucination near-suicide event.

On April 17th, security footage from a subway station shows a businessman wander in around midnight and walk off the platform onto the tracks. The only two witnesses were a pair of intoxicated men, but video corroborates their story that the man seemed to be distracted by something unseen. The surveillance cameras then malfunctioned. The witnesses say the businessman appeared to not even notice the train approaching him. He was killed on impact. Investigation found no history of mental illness, no drugs or alcohol in his system, and no explanation for his apparent mental state. Coworkers said he had left their late meeting happily satisfied with their work with a cheerful declaration that he'd buy donuts for the team in the morning. Not typical suicidal behavior.

On April 6th, a young couple with no history of mental illness was walking toward the homeless shelter they usually volunteered at in a run-down part of town. Friends saw them approaching from several blocks away and noted that both looked to their left as they seemed to hear something. They then wandered down the alley there. When they didn't show up by five minutes before the shelter opened for the evening, the friends went to investigate. The couple was found sitting against a wall under a broken window. Each had apparently slit their own wrists with broken glass and seemed to be in a dreamlike state. Their friends acted quickly and saved them. When the couple recovered in the hospital, neither remembered anything after leaving their house.

On March 27th, a group of three high school girls was walking home when they detoured from their usual route. An ice cream vendor they walked past stated that they all seemed to be in a trance, none of them acknowledging his greetings and wandering through the park with a strangely swaying gait. Worried, he kept an eye on them. When he saw them trying to scale a fence between the park and a steep drop into a drainage canal, he sprinted over, dragged them down, and called emergency services when they kept trying to climb over. Police found the girls in a dreamlike state which slowly shifted into confusion. Upon examination in a hospital, none of the girls were found to have any mind-altering substances in their systems. All three didn't remember anything after they turned away from their usual route.

All of this is disturbing just among Mitakihara and Kazamino City, but it gets worse. Detective Misako Ishijima of Asunaro, the jurisdiction just north of Mitakihara, contacted Mitakihara Municipal Police to disclose a series of missing and dead girls in Asunaro, as well. Detective Ishijima has been collecting such cases as a side project while on the force, inspired by the disappearance of a childhood friend of hers. Her files go back years and encompass over thirty cases, prompting a casefile scramble in Mitakihara and Kazamino City. Detective Ishijima cites a heightened frequency of such mysteries in the last four months. Here are but a handful of the disappearances:

On March 24th, the parents of Sumire Akane (14) discovered that their daughter was missing when she didn't appear for breakfast. Her window was found open, her bed unslept in. Police deemed her a runaway. Akane's parents adamantly denied this conclusion, saying their daughter had been happy and successful: A member of the South Middle School soccer club, Akane had recently been promoted to a starting position and was by all accounts thrilled and eager to compete. Her parents and friends insisted she wouldn't walk away from her dream come true-- she had worked too hard for it.

Kaede Hinata (15) disappeared on March 10th. That afternoon, she urgently excused herself from choir practice at North Middle School to “run an important errand” she had forgotten. While she was never seen after her departure, police did find her school bag on a park bench about a mile from the school. Her wallet and phone were inside it. Authorities suspected abduction, but could find no evidence.

On February 2nd, Kanna Hijiri (15) disappeared from her bedroom overnight. A popular student at the exclusive Kyōzō Academy, Hijiri was known to be a cheerful girl and indulgent older sister to her younger twin sisters. However, her friends and family noted that for about a week before her disappearance, Hijiri seemed to rapidly become distant and erratic. After her disappearance, police performed forensic data analysis on the girl's computer. They found that the night before she was discovered to be missing, Hijiri searched for and accessed multiple archived articles about an incident that happened when she was four years old. Back then, her family lived in the United States due to her mother's extended business assignment in Los Angeles, California. One day she was playing at a neighbor's house with two of that household's children. The children found the homeowner's unsecured handgun and played cowboys. Tragically, little Kanna Hijiri didn't understand she wasn't holding a toy and pulled the trigger. Between the original shot and the ricochet off an iron vase, all three children were hit. Hijiri survived, but the neighbor children, ages two and three, did not. Hijiri's parents moved back to Japan and tried to move on, but their daughter remained depressed through much of her childhood. However, she brightened upon moving to Asunaro and entering middle school. Her parents said it seemed as though she had forgotten the incident. They consulted a psychiatrist who hypothesized that Hijiri may have suppressed the memories or simply been able to distract herself better in the new school environment where no one knew her history. In the wake of her disappearance, authorities worried that she may have had a psychological breakdown. In the context of other disappearances, police fear someone may have taken her while she was in a fragile mental state.

Best friends Yūri Asuka (14) and Airi Anri (14) disappeared from the same location on the evening of January 28th. Asuka was a competitor in the annual Asunaro Iron Chef competition at the Asunaro Dome. Anri was in the audience to cheer her on. The first sign that something was wrong came when Asuka failed to appear on stage for the final cook-off. Witnesses later identified a photo of Anri and agreed that they had seen her wander out the door and main hallways, obviously worried and looking for something. As is becoming a worryingly common theme, the video surveillance system crashed for about forty minutes. Neither girl has been seen since.

While there have been many disappearances in Asunaro and its northern outskirts in the last four months, there has only been one unsolved case of a girl dying mysteriously in that time. On December 21st, Michiru Kazusa (14) was found dead in her home. The girl had returned to Asunaro from her overseas boarding school to be with her grandmother as she died back in November, then decided to take the rest of the semester off to put her grandmother's residence in order. Her mother, out of the country on business, allowed it. Things seemed to go smoothly until that day in December. Neighbors reported hearing a loud sound in the afternoon, but at first thought nothing of it as there was a thunderstorm in the area. Neighbors coming home from work later were the first to notice something amiss-- part of the roof seemed to have been blown off. Upon investigation, Kazusa's body was found prone on the floor below the center of the hole in the roof. Initially, authorities suspected a lightning strike, but autopsy showed no sign of electrical burns or any other cause of death and expert analysis of the home did not support the theory. The roof had obviously exploded outwards, but no cause for this could be found and there was no explosion trauma to Kazusa's body.

While every metropolitan area has its share of runaways, disappearances, and deaths, the sheer concentration of these occurrences in the last several months is extremely disturbing. What was once thought to be a problem focused in Mitakihara has expanded to the entire metro area. Our press organization has reached out to neighboring population centers such as Soma and Sendai for information. Both show an exponentially smaller incidence of similar disappearances and deaths relative to population and no unexplained cases of attempted suicide followed by amnesia.

Whatever is at the root of this, it seems to be local. We pray this mystery is solved swiftly.

Until then, keep tabs on your daughters, Mitakihara.

\-----

MITAKIHARA DISAPPEARANCES: NEW WITNESS EMERGES

ENCOUNTERED MISSING GIRLS TOGETHER ON MARCH 25TH

_April 22, 20XX 07:03 PM_

Around noon, a witness whose name has not been released approached the authorities claiming to have seen Sayaka Miki (14), Madoka Kaname (14), and Mami Tomoe (15) together before the three went missing. The witness, a young woman employed as a hostess at a restaurant, claims to have encountered the girls during a mysterious episode akin to the TV station “mass hallucination” event.

Late on the afternoon of March 25th, the witness recalls dressing for work, taking the train to her usual stop, getting a drink from a vending machine, and getting distracted on the walk to the restaurant. She remembers feeling like she was supposed to go somewhere important and walking the opposite direction of her place of employment. The woman claims her memories are blacked out for a bit, but that she has a vivid memory of standing on top of a building and seeing the sunset behind the city. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground in front of the abandoned Yunichiya Textiles office and manufacturing facility in the south of town. She was in her stocking feet, shoes nowhere to be found, and was being cradled by a girl she has identified as Mami Tomoe from recent newscasts. According to the report, she realized she had nearly jumped off the building and broke down in horror. Tomoe consoled her, saying things like “you're safe now” and “you were just having a bad dream.” The witness says two schoolgirls who looked like the photos of Kaname and Miki stood nearby and watched. The witness claims to not remember how she got to the ground floor, but says she had guessed that the girls must have coaxed her down. However, her shoes remained missing and her stockings were not torn from walking through an abandoned building.

Authorities were dispatched to investigate the scene of the alleged sighting. “Even if it's too late to track the girls from that point, we are very interested in the impulsive attempted suicide with blackouts and amnesia in people with no history of mental illness, as in the television station case,” said Spokeswoman Kuroe Mura. “We will survey the scene and have confiscated the vending machine from which this witness obtained a drink before she began to feel strange. Nearly a month has passed since the incident so I wish to caution the public that we may not find anything. However, I also strongly urge the public to come forward if you have had a similar experience in which you found yourself in a dangerous situation with little memory of how you got there. We won't be able to identify a pattern if people are too ashamed or frightened to come forward. Should anyone come forward, the Mitakihara Municipal Police guarantee anonymity for the duration of the investigation.”

Police remain uncertain whether the missing girls knew something about these mysterious incidents or were present by coincidence, but for now the two cases are being treated as potentially linked.

_Updated April 22, 20XX 7:38 PM_

Initial reports from the Yunichiya Textiles investigation confirm that the hostess' red shoes were found near the edge of the rooftop. Apparent sun and rain damage seems to verify that they have been up there for a month. The hostess will begin testing like the TV station victims tomorrow.

\-----

Kisuke sat back and rolled the last gummy candy around in his mouth as he thought. Curious. Especially when combined with Isshin's claim of the spiritually aware girl bearing residual Hollow reiatsu being aware of disappearances and deaths before they were publicly known. Hmm. Something interesting lay there.

Dead bodies with no apparent cause of death, particularly in the numbers cited, could certainly indicate Hollow activity. Knocking a soul out of a living person to devour it often left no marks on the physical body. He wondered if the two dead girls who had displayed signs of a fight-- Bethany Michaels with her obvious injuries and Michiru Kazusa with her badly damaged house-- had been spiritually aware enough to try defending themselves.

If the culprit was a Hollow-- or multiple Hollows-- the way the missing Mitakihara girls were tied to disappearances and thwarted suicide attempts added credibility to Isshin's theory about them being spiritually aware. Similar to how once upon a time he had gone back and cross-referenced the filming locations for Don Kanonji's television show and the appearance of new Hollows-- he had found Kanonji to be a previously unrecognized cause of Hollow development. Kisuke pondered the girls' known involvement and wondered if something similar was at work. Were they Fullbringers? Did their high reiatsu draw Hollows in and endanger others? There was no way to know without more research, so he set that train of thought aside.

The mysterious suicides and thwarted attempts were strange. The online testimony of similar occurrences at places thought to be haunted was a red flag, as well. Suicide would expose the souls for Hollows to devour, but brainwashing or whatever was being done seemed too complicated for most Hollows to bother with-- most would dive in for a meal instead of toying with prey. There were powerful anomalies like Shrieker and Grand Fisher, of course, who delighted in manipulating the living and luring prey to their own deaths. And more highly evolved and intelligent Hollows such as Adjuchas and Arrancars could be capable of such a thing. Hollows usually left a trail of bodies, though. More bodies than were being found, anyway. And their predations were usually noticed by Twelfth Division before their body count got that high, even if they could hide their reiatsu. Kisuke himself had designed the algorithm to flag unusually frequent use of small-scale gargantas. Unless the predator was intelligent enough and knowledgeable enough of shinigami procedures to avoid using gargantas for travel, the detection threshold should have been exceeded in mid-March at the latest. Especially if the suicides and the disappearances were caused by two different Hollows.

What an interesting-- if thoroughly morbid-- puzzle.

If this was the work of, say, a highly intelligent Arrancar with a unique ability and a sadistic stalker or serial killer's mindset... Well. The Mitakihara area was in deep trouble. Assuming evidence of Hollow activity could be found.

Which brought him back to Twelfth Division and Mayuri Kurotsuchi.

Kisuke smirked and cracked his knuckles. “Ahhh, I guess there's nothing for it,” he said with false regret.

§ x § x §

Midnight deep in the bowels of the Twelfth Division labs was Mayuri Kurotsuchi's favorite time and place to be. If he could be said to have a favorite anything, that is. It was much quieter with most of his lackeys away in bed, just a skeleton night crew on duty to observe the global reishi and garganta monitors and occasional round-the-clock experiment. Mayuri got his best work done when all the noisy morons were asleep. He wrought masterpieces in the night. The lack of interruption was magnificent.

“Captain Kurotsuchi.”

Mayuri grit his teeth at the sound of his lieutenant's emotionless voice. “What have I told you about interrupting my experiments, you disobedient simpleton?!”

“To only do so at non-critical moments if and only if the subject is apocalyptic or interesting, Captain Kurotsuchi.”

Mayuri sneered down at his project and tweaked a wire. “And _what_ have you deemed so important as to interrupt me?”

Nemu paused. It was the only hint of her trepidation before she tonelessly answered, “Kisuke Urahara has called. He requests an audience.”

Mayuri hurled a scalpel at Nemu. She dodged her head expressionlessly as the implement _twanged_ into the wall behind her. “You fool! I have no interest in speaking to that contemptible miscreant!”

The PA system snapped and whined before a voice crackled over the speakers. “Waaaahhhh, Mayuriiiii, you break my heart.”

Mayuri's eye twitched dangerously, veins bulging at his temples. “ _How dare you_ hijack my communications system?!”

“How? Aha! Well, I must say, your communications aren't nearly as well-protected as your databases,” Urahara's cheerful voice bubbled from above.

Furious, Mayuri made a mental note to rectify that.

“Aaaanywhooo~” warbled Urahara. “I come bearing something interesting and a request for help.”

“ _Denied_.”

“Aww, but I didn't even get to the good part.”

Mayuri always hated his former captain's ability to express a pout in his voice. It forced him to picture the moron's ugly face making its ugliest expression. “There is _never_ a good part with you.”

“I'm hurt.” Urahara sniffled for a moment, then sobered. “In all seriousness, Captain Kurotsuchi, I think you'll find this interesting. It's possible I've simply stumbled upon a human serial criminal of some sort, but the preponderance of testimony suggests something spiritual. A Hollow or other spiritual being may have figured out how to evade your sensors. Whatever it is seems to have a preference for pubescent girls. That, and I'm looking at a curious set of circumstances which indicate there may be a Hollow which has learned how to cause humans to attempt suicide, sometimes en masse, followed by amnesia if they are unsuccessful.”

Mayuri grimaced and reluctantly lifted his head. Okay, that did sound _mildly_ interesting. However... “Are you slighting my sensors?!”

“Not at all, Mayuriiiii, not at all! I've peeked at them a few times over the years. I find your improvements of excellent quality. Unless you've destroyed them since the last security upgrade, I have the utmost confidence in them~!”

Nemu stared blandly at her captain, who was frothing with rage.

“In fact, I have so much confidence in them that I am very curious to see what sort of data they have on an area near Soma, Japan. My own sensors don't extend that far north, you see. I am but a humble shopkeeper, after all.” Urahara's voice downshifted from cheerful to ominously sly. “I don't doubt that your sensors are superb. But if something creative or new is out there that you don't yet know to account for... that would be _fascinating_ , wouldn't it?”

The lab fell into near silence once more, Urahara waiting while Mayuri resentfully tinkered with his experiment as he thought. He drew the silence out as long as he could before snapping, “What sort of evidence do you have to give you reason to bother me with this?”

“I sent a detailed report to your lieutenant, if you'd like to glance at it.”

Mayuri snaked his gaze to his lieutenant. Nemu held up a tablet, which Mayuri snatched from her grasp. He ordered her to tidy up his project space and strolled out of the lab and into his private office, reading rapidly. His lips drew into a sneer when he heard a crackle signifying Urahara had jumped to the PA in his office. The buffoon had sense enough to stay quiet while he read, at least.

At length, Mayuri tossed the tablet onto his desk. “This could mean anything, you dolt.”

“I am aware that it could mean a lot of things, some of them mundane. But checking the local data should be simple and something among it could prove interesting, don't you think?”

Mayuri only dignified the question with a grunt. “There isn't a report on the girl Shiba told you about.”

“I haven't examined her. Isshin is going to tell Ichigo to get the girls to my shop tomorrow or the next day so I can do a passive scan. We don't want to alarm her if she doesn't know about shinigami.”

Mayuri rolled his head and cracked his neck irritably. “You're soft and Shiba is an idiot.”

“Perhaps. But correct me if I'm wrong: That metropolitan area has only become densely populated in the last couple decades. It used to be uninhabited swamp. Theoretically speaking, its spiritual density should be mid-level and not conducive to producing many Pluses or Hollows. Newly dead souls should mostly slip right through to Soul Society. Even if this girl is as aware as Isshin claims, it could be possible she's never encountered a Plus or shinigami.”

Mayuri grimaced. “Technically speaking, I suppose. Though if there are as many spiritually aware whelps there as you seem to think there are, that would indicate something accelerating... the increase of density of... hmmm. A shift in spiritual density _should_ appear on a sensor array, but if the denser souls are consumed when they reach critical mass, and consolidated... pubescent girls would be an ideal target as they approach spiritual maturity... but the energy...” He stared at a wall, thinking.

“Uwaa, you're brilliant! But don't worry, Mayuriiiii! If you're too busy, I'll take a vacation up in Mitakihara and figure it out myself~”

Mayuri rolled his eyes at the transparent attempt at reverse psychology. “I'll have Akon look into this tomorrow. Send a report on the girl when you can.”

“Okay!” chirped Urahara. “Pleasant dreams, Mayuriiiiiiii!”

The PA system crackled and went dead. Mayuri stared at it for a moment, then turned to his computer.

He had a communications security system to rewrite.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Of course Urahara trolls paranormal sites. He's Urahara.


	16. FÜNFZEHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I promise the information provided in the previous chapter will be relevant later on. I don't make things for Urahara to read with no reason.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**FÜNFZEHN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Homura sat sleepily in her futon as the Kurosaki girls were getting ready for school. She stared up at the cloudless blue sky beyond the window's glass.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Madoka was dead again.

But this time was different. It felt less horrible on this lovely Saturday morning. Madoka's death hadn't been meaningless this time. It had seemed so, yes, but it had driven her to an entire assortment of possibilities for saving Madoka and keeping the other girls alive while protecting Mitakihara-- and enough time left in this cycle to actually explore them. She could almost convince herself that this was Madoka's gift to her. Irrational as that was, it was a comfort.

Breakfast was pleasant. Homura still held back, but was more comfortable being among the Kurosaki banter. Soon, the twins ran off to school and Homura was left with Isshin once more. Fortified with copious amounts of coffee, the two began the task of contacting the adults in Homura's life. Isshin had expected the difficult part to be getting a hold of the correct people at the school. While she didn't show it, Homura was terribly amused by Isshin's dismayed reaction to the communications circus involved in actually speaking to her uncle. It had been the equivalent of at least a few years since she had bothered trying, so it was something of a novelty to her.

After the third secretary put them on hold for the fifth time, Isshin turned to Homura with a disheartened face. “Doesn't he have a personal cell phone?”

Homura shrugged. “He doesn't tell me where he is and has different cell phones for different business destinations depending on roaming fees. He's very frugal about things like that so he has more to spend on things he likes.” She glanced down at the swirl of cream lazily circling her coffee and haltingly added, “I think he prefers to be difficult to contact. I'm just to call his home office and have them patch me through. Eventually. Or they relay a message that I am to consult with his lawyer in Tokyo.”

Isshin frowned disapprovingly. “That's ridiculous. He should be taking care of you. _Someone_ should be taking care of you.”

“My parents and grandparents are dead and my only family is my uncle. He's a confirmed bachelor who is rarely in one place for even a solid month. Until recently, I couldn't travel due to my illness. I prefer my apartment anyway. It's quiet and I don't have to deal with my uncle's latest assistant trying to butter me up all the time. As if it would make a difference to him.” She shook her head and closed her eyes as she lifted her mug to her lips. Why the hell had that slipped out? There were far worse things to be bitter about. Homura glanced up at Isshin through her eyelashes and saw something fierce glinting in his eyes.

For a moment, Homura flashed back to her mother's outrage when she discovered her daughter was being bullied for being excused from gym class. Just as quickly, Homura averted her gaze into her coffee cup and forcibly quashed the memory.

Thankfully, the secretary came back on the line before Isshin could prod that sore spot any more. They did end up being referred to the lawyer. Isshin looked sour as they made that call. Homura didn't particularly pay attention to the adults' businesslike conversation about her temporary living situation and its cause. That exchange still went far more smoothly than talking to her school. Evidently they were buried in media questions and parent demands about security measures. They eventually agreed to call back on Monday if she wouldn't be attending. When they hung up, Isshin and Homura looked at each other and shared a moment of pity for the poor school secretary. Further conversation was forestalled by a patient relentlessly ringing the clinic buzzer. The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Before they knew it, the twins were home from their half-day at school.

Yuzu cheerfully announced, “We passed all our tests!”

Isshin let out a roar of pride and swept Yuzu into a hug and twirled her. “Daddy's so proud! Victory ice cream tonight!”

Lunch was a lively affair, the twins even coaxing Homura into comparing their tests with where her school's classes were in the same subjects. It passed quickly. Soon, Isshin returned to the clinic and the girls set out to wander around town, Karin bringing her soccer ball along in a net. Homura wasn't sure what the sisters intended to do, but they seemed to really want her to follow them.

A few blocks from the clinic, Karin said, “We want you to see a Hollow. Maybe fight it. So you know what we're talking about and can be more convincing when you talk about Witches as if they're Hollows. That okay?”

Quite rational, really, and it dovetailed nicely with Homura's wish to investigate. “Yes.”

“It's been a few days since we last saw a Hollow,” said Yuzu. “There's no guarantee we'll find one, but we're overdue for one.”

“We'll just hang out until we sense one, yeah?”

Homura nodded and made a quiet sound of agreement.

“Now, when we do find one, the trick is to not transform. You know how to strengthen yourself and jump around without transforming, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to channel your reiatsu-- your magic-- through other objects to fight with them?”

Homura thought of her experiments with making fuel trucks move to use as mobile bombs against Walpurgisnacht. “Yes.”

“By the way, what is your weapon?” asked Yuzu.

“A shield.”

“Huh. That must be interesting to use offensively,” Karin commented.

Homura hummed, wryly reflecting upon her initial dismay at figuring out how to actually fight. “It has an unlimited storage capacity, though, so I also use guns and bombs.”

The twins stopped and looked at Homura with wide eyes.

“Where do you get guns and bombs?!” Karin asked incredulously.

“I steal the guns from the yakuza and I make the bombs myself. And I took some grenades from the JSDF.”

The sisters gaped.

Karin whistled. “Damn, you're way more gutsy than I pegged you for.”

Homura tilted her head.

“I don't mean that as an insult. It's just that you're so quiet and polite. The thought of you stealing weapons and throwing bombs around is mind-boggling.”

Yuzu's lips quirked up. “Beware the quiet ones, huh, Karin?”

Karin barked a laugh. “Yep!”

Yuzu pursed her lips. “You can't use guns and bombs on Hollows, though, even if you channel your magic through them. Hollows don't have labyrinths, so you'd look like you were shooting at nothing and probably hit bystanders. And the police would come. That would get messy.”

Homura hummed an agreement. “I'll think of something.” She thought for a moment, then hesitantly confessed, “When I first became a magical girl, I channeled my magic through a golf club. I can do something like that again.”

Karin laughed long and loud. “A golf club?!”

Yuzu shook her head, smiling. “You're one to talk. You use a soccer ball.”

Karin snickered. “True, true. Whatever works, right Homura?” She grinned.

Homura found herself smiling slightly. “Yes.”

They walked in companionable silence for a couple blocks. Then Karin idly asked, “Do you play much soccer?”

Homura hummed quietly. “I don't think I've ever played it.”

Karin stopped and gaped at her, aghast. “Never?!”

Homura flushed. “I wanted to. But until I had my surgery over the winter... until I used my magic to heal myself more... Well, I couldn't. And I was busy after I became a magical girl. If we haven't done it in gym in the last few weeks, I haven't done it. We're on a track and field rotation now.”

Karin looked appalled for a moment before her face abruptly shifted into bright-eyed determination.

Yuzu smiled. “Ah, now you've done it.”

“I'll teach you!”

Karin's enthusiastic shout startled Homura so much she actually jumped. Yuzu smothered giggles. Homura faltered, her old self peeking through the cracks of her mask. “ B-but I thought we were looking for Hollows?”

Karin grinned fiercely. “I've been fighting them with a soccer ball since long before I became a magical girl. If we sense one, we can get to it fairly quickly. May as well have fun til one shows its ugly face. Come on!” She took off at a run.

Homura looked to Yuzu, who shrugged and followed her sister at a jog. At a loss, Homura tagged along.

The following hour turned into soccer boot camp. It was awkward for Homura at first, but Karin's enthusiasm eventually bore her up. When Homura was focused on learning the game, lost in angles, running, velocity, the bright spring sunshine, and the smell of freshly-cut grass, she was able to put aside her troubles, however briefly.

Homura had lost track of time when she skidded to a halt mid-play. She sensed a strange magical signature that reminded her of the feel of a labyrinth collapsing-- of tearing out of the nightmare dimension and reentering reality. It made her shudder. The twins also stopped and looked toward the source of the feeling.

“Garganta,” murmured Karin.

“What?”

“A door Hollows use to get from their dimension to ours,” explained Yuzu. “Come on. It's not far off.”

Karin grabbed her ball and net, then the girls ran out into the neighborhood. Three blocks later, they rounded a corner into an alley and stopped. Two Hollows roughly the size and shape of large dogs had trapped a small boy. He must have been spiritually aware because he looked right at the monsters and cowered in terror as they growled.

“Okay, this is real simple,” Karin lectured. “The trick is to break the Hollow's mask. Watch.” She whistled sharply. When the Hollows turned, she wound up and drop-kicked her soccer ball straight into one of their faces. The glowing ball shattered the Hollow's bone mask. The Hollow convulsed and began to disappear, seeming to become more humanoid before vanishing completely as a butterfly rose into the sky.

The second Hollow hesitated for a moment, then overcame its surprise and leapt at the girls. Desperate for a weapon, Homura saw a piece of rebar on the ground by a pile of trash that must have come from someone's remodeling project. In one smooth movement, she swooped up the metal bar, flooded it with her magic, and swung at the Hollow's face as its jump carried it toward her. The mask broke with a resounding crack before the monster evaporated like its companion.

Homura blinked at the empty space, still brandishing the glowing iron rod. Yuzu stepped forward to comfort the little boy. Karin grinned and slapped a hand on Homura's shoulder. “Good job.”

Just then, there was a whoosh of displaced air above them. The girls looked up and saw a burly man sporting a large brown afro and black traditional clothing wielding a sword. After a moment, he lowered his weapon. Frowning, he complained, “Leave something for me to do for once, Kurosaki.”

Karin smirked and shrugged. “Not our fault you're slow, Afro-man.”

The man pursed his lips and one of his eyebrows twitched in irritation.

Karin noticed Homura looking at the man with trepidation. “Oh, Homura, this is Afro-man.”

“Zennosuke Kurumadani!” the man insisted.

Karin ignored him and plowed on. “He's the shinigami assigned to patrol Karakura.”

Unsure what to do, Homura went with nodding a greeting at him.

Kurumadani looked dismayed. “ _Another_ person who can see spirits? This town, I swear--”

“Aww, but you have like the easiest assignment ever, Afro-man! Make it a vacation!”

The shinigami didn't dignify the suggestion with an answer, sheathing his sword and leaping away.

Without losing a beat, Karin stepped toward Yuzu and called over her shoulder, “Let's get this kid home and get back to our game, yeah?”

§ x § x §

On a rooftop a mile away, Kisuke Urahara lowered his binoculars.

So the girl _did_ know how to fight Hollows. Was even capable of defeating low-level ones with a single blow. And he had glimpsed her considerable strength when her reiatsu momentarily flared while wrapping the rod in the violet light of her power.

“My, my. The Kurosaki siblings befriend the most interesting people."

§ x § x §

Ichigo entered his house in mid-afternoon and carelessly shed his backpack and duffle bag in a heap by the door.

“I'm hooooome,” he called. No one replied. He cast out his senses; the old man was in the clinic with a normal person and the girls were... probably at the soccer field, from what he could tell of direction and distance. In the opposite of a hurry, he grabbed a snack and flopped onto the couch with his smart phone.

An hour later, Isshin charged into the house and hurdled over the back of the couch. “ICHIGOOO--!”

Ichigo jabbed both legs up and kicked his father into a ninety-degree turn, whereupon he bowled over a (previously glued together) lamp on his way to the far wall. “Hey, old man.”

Isshin stood sharply, straightened his tie, and asked, “Have a nice trip?”

“Eh. It was a train ride. Trains are trains.” Ichigo swiped the screen of his phone a few times.

More seriously, Isshin asked, “Did you get the stuff I emailed you?”

Ichigo's eyes peered over his phone somewhat darkly. “Yeah. Looks bad. Find out anything else from the girl's family?”

Isshin made a disgruntled face. “That poor girl. All she has is some globe-trotting ladies' man of a rich uncle who refers her to his lawyer for everything. Evidently he didn't find the situation serious enough to deal with himself-- or even to talk to his niece to make sure she was all right after _fleeing in fear of her life_. So she's been left to deal with this all alone. It's criminal.”

Ichigo scowled, then tried to reassure them both. “Well, Inoue went through a lot while in basically the same situation and she ended up okay.” Barring certain eccentricities, but whatever. He was hardly one to talk there. “It does suck, though. Have you heard anything from Urahara?”

“Kisuke called to say he got Twelfth looking at the Mitakihara area.”

“How'd he pull that off?”

“God only knows. He sounded delighted. I hope I don't see Kurotsuchi for awhile.”

Ichigo snorted. “I think everyone thinks that all the time.” He put down his phone and gave his father a measured look. “You sent me all that info for a reason. What kinda goal you have, old man?”

Isshin sat in a chair and tented his fingers. After taking a moment to gather words, he started thinking out loud. “I'd like you to try to talk to Homura.” Ichigo raised a brow. “Whether or not you realize it, you are good at drawing people out. Getting them to open up and rely on others. No matter how I look at it, I'm certain this girl knows some vital information and just doesn't have any faith in the adults she could talk to. I can't blame her, considering her family situation. She's plainly more open even just to simple conversation when the girls are around-- she clams up if she's just with me. Becomes a very polite brick wall. You're at that magical in-between place where you aren't a kid but you're not quite an adult yet. I'm hoping she'll open up to you if you just... be yourself.”

Ichigo's lips quirked sarcastically. “Be myself, eh?” He drifted off in thought for a moment, then refocused on his father. Isshin was sitting hunched, hand holding his chin and covering his mouth while he looked concerned. Ichigo tilted his head. “There something else?”

Isshin looked a bit surprised, settled, bit his lip, and quietly answered, “She reminds me of you.”

Ichigo's brows screwed up incredulously. “Haaaa? I thought you said she's quiet, reserved, and unfailingly polite.”

Ishhin looked at Ichigo searchingly while biting his thumb. After a moment, he clarified, “I mean you when you were nine years old.”

Ichigo's face instantly went grim and flat. “Oh.” After a long silence, he asked, “That bad, huh?”

“Trying to act normal but actually a guilty, grieving mess beneath the surface, all while walking around with as much reiatsu as a seated officer? Yes.”

Ichigo lay back, closed his eyes, and blew out a deep breath. “I'll try.”

“That's all I can ask of you, son.”

After a long few minutes, Ichigo asked, “As much reiatsu as a seated officer, huh?”

It was Isshin's turn to blow out a deep sigh. “Mid-range, at my best guess. It's difficult to tell. Unlike you, she appears to have her power tightly controlled. Rather like your sisters.”

“Well, that's one thing she has going for her, at least.”

“Yeah. So anyway, I was thinking maybe tomorrow you could take the girls out. Have fun. Find an excuse to stop at Urahara Shop for candy or something on the way home.”

“And whyyy am I leading an innocent girl into Sandal-Hat's clutches?”

“So he can do a passive scan of her. Figure out how much reiatsu she really has, if that really is Hollow reiatsu on her. It may help narrow the investigation-- give Kisuke a sample signal to try to trace up in Mitakihara.”

“Side effects?”

“None. He's done it to your sisters a few times. They're fine. Never noticed.”

Ichigo turned and gave his father a _look_. “Do you have any idea how sleazy that sounded?”

Isshin barked out a laugh. “Well, I guess. Your sisters have--”

Both men abruptly turned and stared beyond the far wall, sensing a garganta. They felt the girls move toward the source instead of away. Ichigo cursed, threw himself to his feet, and readied his badge.

Isshin grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

“What the hell?!”

“Just wait. I sense Kisuke. Hold on.”

They sat tensely as they tracked the Kurosaki girls' progress. Their movement stopped, then Karin's reiatsu flared in a short, sharp burst. Immediately thereafter, a reiatsu signature Ichigo had never felt before flared beside her. It was like a brief, dizzying flash of cold starshine, then sharply dropped, hesitated, and completely retracted into itself. The Hollow reiatsu was gone.

“What the hell.”

Isshin scratched the back of his head and sighed. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”

“What?”

“Whether or not Homura knows how to fight Hollows.”

“Wait, that was her?!”

“Yuuup.”

Ichigo whistled long and low. “She felt damn near lieutenant-class. Not quite, but near that. And Karin's at that level, too.”

“Yeeeah. That's more than I expected.” Isshin ruffled his hair irritably. “Now I'm _really_ worried about what Homura's been through. That felt practiced and controlled. No wobbliness as though uncertain. If she's that strong and something up north overpowered her, killed her friend... or friends....”

“Then something's really fucked up up north.”

“Yeah.”

Ichigo scrubbed his face with his hands. “Ugh, can I have a _solid year_ in which I both have my powers and there is no ominous spiritual crisis. Please.”

Isshin slapped his back. “Sorry, son. Seems to be a family curse.”

“Dammit.”

§ x § x §

Homura followed the sisters home after another two hours-- two hours!-- of running around playing soccer, breathless and somehow lighter than she had felt in awhile. She was capable of performing amazing physical feats as a magical girl but the novelty had worn off. Having the stamina to run around in civilian form made her feel free. _When all of this is over and everyone is safe, I want to play soccer with Madoka and everyone_ , she thought impulsively. Strangely, the frivolous goal felt... buoyant. Something to aim for beyond Madoka (and the others, preferably) surviving Walpurgisnacht in one piece physically, mentally, and spiritually. A more cheerful goal than plain “avoid death and corruption.” Something to work towards rather than fight against. And, actually, the first time in many cycles she dared think of what could happen beyond Walpurgisnacht.

As they approached the Kurosaki Clinic, Homura slowed. She sensed a kind of magic-- reiatsu?-- she had never felt before. It was as if the clinic contained a banked wildfire that was somehow dark; like a bonfire on a hot summer night under a full moon, somehow comforting despite being wrapped in shadows and at risk of the fire burning out of control. Warm and inviting but not to be trifled with.

“Onii-chan is here!” squealed Yuzu.

“C'mon, Homura!” Karin called happily.

Homura jogged after them. _Is that their brother I sense?!_ she thought. _They said powerful, but this is... this is..._ She was at a loss for words even in her own head.

The sisters entered the house, kicked off their shoes, and hurried down the hall with Homura on their heels. In the living room, they threw themselves at a tall, lean young man in his late teens. He laughed and ruffled their hair as he said, “What's this? I was only gone for a week.”

“But you were gone and now you're back, Onii-chan! We're happy!” cheered Yuzu.

The young man laughed again. “If you say so. It's good to see you, too.” He looked up, saw Homura, and tossed her a lazy salute. “Yo.”

Homura's cheeks pinked. She faltered, uncertain whether to wave back or bow politely. An awkward hybrid of the two won the day. “U-um, hello,” she squeaked. His body language and face broadcast casualness, but his eyes were attentive-- a sort of sharp curiosity as if he was trying to see through her, but not maliciously. The juxtaposition threw her, especially combined with the moonlight-and-embers magic that emanated from him. His power felt like it had weight to it-- as though the air was slightly thicker in his presence. It was something she had only really noticed with Walpurgisnacht and Madoka-- though the Witch was an all-encompassing weight of dread and Madoka's power felt like bright spring sunshine and the softness of rose petals.

“Ichi-nii, this is our friend, Homura,” said Karin. “Homura, this is our big brother, Ichigo.”

Ichigo smiled crookedly at her and nodded a greeting. “Nice to meet you, Homura.”

Homura wrung her hands and bowed slightly. “Nice to meet you, too, um... Mister... Kurosaki...?”

Ichigo pulled a face. “That's my old man. Ichigo's fine, really.”

“Okay.” Homura looked down at her feet. Somehow she felt like her old, shrinking violet self with braids and glasses in his presence-- like she actually wanted to hide behind those old shields of hers for a moment. Like he was very big and she was very small. She wasn't sure what to think of that.

Ichigo stood back and eyed all three girls evenly. Even the sisters tensed under his evaluation. Mildly, he said, “I've been home for a few hours now.”

The girls stared blankly at the apparent non sequitur. Then Karin cringed. “Oh. Oops.”

The other girls looked at her as Ichigo drawled, “Yeeeah, 'oops.' I thought I told you to stop running toward Hollows when there is a perfectly capable shinigami stationed here.” His eyes shifted to Homura. “That goes for you, too. Stay safe if you can.”

Homura startled. _How--?_

“You sensed the fight,” Yuzu guessed.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I can't believe you just referred to Afro-man as capable, Ichi-nii.”

Ichigo shrugged. “Eh. He's improved. Give him a chance to do his job.”

Karin stared flatly at her brother. “He's slow, Ichi-nii, and you know it.”

“Still faster than he was when I first ran into him.”

“That's pathetic.”

Ichigo shrugged again.

“You sensed us fighting the-- the Hollows?” Homura asked in surprise.

“Yep.” Ichigo raised his brows speculatively. “Felt like you were pretty damn efficient. You have experience?”

Oh, hey, there was the question the twins had implied would come eventually. “Um. Uh. Yes?”

Ichigo tilted his head curiously. “The old man said you're from Mitakihara. You get a lot of Hollows up there, then?”

Homura stared at him like a deer in headlights, rapidly wondering which tack to take to cause what effect. She hadn't decided how involved she wanted to get shinigami yet or how to do it! She wouldn't flail awkwardly while she scrambled for an answer. Would not. She was calm, cool, and collected. Definitely not a small child being questioned by a casually suspicious babysitter. _Forget plans._ Her eyes darted to Karin's. _What is the most logical answer?!_ she thought at her. Without the Incubator's presence, her attempt at telepathy failed. The _one_ thing it was good for--!

Karin must have read her face correctly, though. Quietly, she murmured, “Please don't ask her a lot of questions about Hollows, Ichi-nii. Homura's not used to other people knowing about them and her friends....” Karin bit her lip and directed a significant and honestly apologetic look at Homura before softly finishing, “Her friends were hunted and eaten.”

Off balance from being questioned before she could make a plan and unprepared for the bluntness of the declaration, Homura didn't have to fake the hard flinch that immediately overtook her, nor the reflexive screwing shut of her eyes as memories of various timelines assaulted her: Mami's head being bitten off by the Sweets Witch. Madoka crushed in the Mermaid Witch's fist, being lifted toward its mouth. A timeline in which the Shadow Witch strangled Sayaka and absorbed her into its many vines. The time the Box Witch's minions tore Madoka limb from limb and started feeding her pieces into their mistress' monitor-body.

Homura startled violently at the feel of hands on her shoulders.

“Breathe. C'mon, breathe. In and out.”

She gasped deeply, having been unaware of having stopped, and opened her eyes.

Ichigo had both of his hands on her shoulders, grip firm. His face was a picture of concern and sympathy. “Good. Good. In and out. You're safe, now.”

He had no idea. She really wasn't. The dam broke once more. “M-Mami. It _bit_ her h-head off and _ate_ h-her,” Homura randomly blurted, on the edge of hyperventilating. “And Muh-- Muh-- Muh-- it _crushed her_ in its ha- _and_ \--!” Tears burned her eyes and throat. She sobbed once and gasped reedily again, closing her eyes.

The twins blanched. Homura hadn't shared those details before.

Ichigo rubbed her shoulders, falling back on his experience calming the twins from nightmares. “You're safe. Shh. Keep breathing. We'll help you stop them. You're safe. We'll help you sort out Mitakihara. You're safe.”

Exhaustion was insidious and crept about her heart. All the things she didn't want to admit she felt came tumbling out. “I'll _n-never_ be safe,” Homura mourned. Caught up in old trauma, her new hopes felt distant. “I try and try and _try_ and they keep d - _dying_. I keep trying to save them but we'll never be safe and it'll _n-never end_.” She was speaking about far more than the current timeline.

For different reasons, everyone tried not to react to the alarming thread of darkness-- dangerously soul-deep despair-- that whispered through Homura's reiatsu. It made Homura's blood run cold. _I can't despair, I can't despair, I can't despair-- not now!_ As though regaining consciousness in the midst of drowning, she mentally thrashed for something to bear her up. Anything. Ichigo gave it to her.

“It _will_ end. It will. Look at me.” Homura looked up and found his eyes boring into hers, burning with righteous fury and fierce protectiveness. “Listen. You don't have to fight by yourself anymore. I don't know what it is you have had to deal with exactly but you have _survived it_. You've clawed your way through hell, come out on the other side, and found people who can help. We'll figure this out. We're here to pick you up and help you now. You're not alone. We'll keep you safe and help you stand up stronger.” Ichigo squeezed her shoulders, face pained for her. “We can't bring your friends back, but we'll free their souls from whatever is hunting the girls where you live, got it? Even if all you can do for them is free their souls so they can move on, that's still a very important thing to do. They may be-- may be dead now--” Ichigo took a deep breath and Homura closed her eyes again-- “but you can still help them that much. We'll help you free them and save their souls so they can move on and find happiness in the next world, yeah? And keep that thing from hurting anyone else.”

Homura peeked up at him through puffy eyes. “How?”

Ichigo's mouth slid into a sharp, almost predatory grin. “I have a lot of friends who are _very_ good at fighting things that go bump in the night and hate seeing kids hurt. I promise you, once we figure out what's going on, whatever is skulking around up there won't know what hit it.” His face softened back to warm sympathy. “And you and your friends will be free-- in different ways, maybe, but free.” He squeezed her shoulders again. “How does that sound?”

Homura stared up at him speechlessly. She knew he couldn't possibly be speaking about her true situation-- her endless cycles of trying to save her best friend-- but it felt like he was. The prospect of help was... she didn't know how to describe it. Homura was afraid to hope for it lest she be disappointed. But now, finding potential help when she had gone so long struggling through plans and fighting and learning by herself... it could be such a relief if she could get it.

She wanted Karin and Yuzu's help. Wanted their brother's help. Wanted someone to help her figure out what to do. One of the things she had found herself resenting throughout the cycles was that figuring out how to resolve the cosmic mess that was this spring in Mitakihara was left to her, a fourteen-year-old girl who had spent half her life in and out of hospitals. It wasn't fair. Ichigo didn't know the depth of the situation, but he expressed agreement all the same. Those fierce, protective, sympathetic eyes....

Homura decided then and there to try to get Ichigo's help in the next timeline. She still wanted to see him fight because life had taught her to be extremely cautious, but she thought that his sheer power and apparent morality would make him a welcome ally. The weight of the world was oppressive on her slender shoulders. That moonlight-and-embers power felt like it had accepted her and turned its burning outward-- toward those who threatened her. The feeling of safety was new. She liked it.

After a long minute of staring at Ichigo while her mind ran in circles, Homura whispered, “That sounds good.”

Ichigo grinned, squeezed her shoulders one last time, and ruffled her hair. “Good.” On the fly, he changed plans for tomorrow since she seemed more open. “I know a guy who may be able to help look into things up there. I can take you to see him tomorrow if you like.”

 _He probably means that shinigami scientist the twins told me about_ , thought Homura. She wrung her hands and fidgeted, looking at her feet and wondering how going to that man so early could turn out.

Ichigo misinterpreted her body language and softly said, “Or you can talk to me and I can talk to him. Think about it, okay?”

Homura nodded, uncertainty and vulnerability clear on her face.

In the distance, they heard the front door close loudly. Ichigo glanced toward it and back at Homura in time to see the proverbial floodgates slam shut, her face instantly smoothing into an aloof façade as she delicately wiped the tears from her cheeks. It was honestly unnerving how quickly and perfectly she did so. How much practice did she have convincing people everything was fine?

Isshin frolicked into the room with his arms full of takeout bags and two big pails of ice cream. He gleefully announced, “Dinner and victory ice cream for my girls!” He looked around the room at the twins' stricken faces, Ichigo's hands on Homura's shoulders, and Homura's tear-swollen eyes and immediately sobered. “What's wrong?”

Homura stepped back, brushing Ichigo's hands from her shoulders. “Nothing, Dr. Kurosaki,” she said coolly.

The Kurosaki siblings all stared at Homura in disbelief. She had just had a messy panic attack slash meltdown and there she stood acting like it hadn't happened, perfectly poised. The only thing that betrayed her polite mask was the evidence of earlier tears.

Everyone stared at Homura until she raised one eyebrow and calmly asked, “I thought we were going to celebrate for Karin and Yuzu?”

“Uh, y--, um, yeah,” Isshin stammered as he watched his children stare at her like she had three heads.

Homura smoothed her skirt. “I think ice cream sounds very good. I haven't had any in awhile,” she said demurely.

Deflect, deflect, deflect.

Ichigo turned to his father and made one of the more incredulous faces Isshin had ever seen.

“Let's-- um-- let's go have dinner!” Yuzu said with forced cheer. “The sooner we're done with dinner, the sooner we can have ice cream.”

“Yeah,” Karin said awkwardly.

“I can help set the table,” Homura quietly volunteered.

“U-um, okay, come on,” Yuzu said. The girls all left the room.

Ichigo watched them then turned to his father and mouthed, _What the hell was that?_

Isshin shrugged exaggeratedly and mouthed back, _How should I know?_

Homura spent the rest of the evening pretending the drama hadn't happened with such force that the Kurosaki family was gradually dragged in her wake and returned to normal. In other words, rowdy and loud. Evidently Karin took after her brother. Interesting. Homura managed to have a mostly pleasant evening.

She couldn't pretend away the memories in her dreams that night, though.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, Ichigo is INVOLVED now. Hope Homura's not too out of character here. She's pretty young and has been bottling up more horror than anyone should ever have to handle in a lifetime.
> 
> Con/crit welcome. I love reviews. No really, I love them. ENABLE ME.


	17. SECHZEHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OMG, Thank you for all the reviews! Now that I have my basic foundation laid, the story should start moving more. Thanks for sticking with me!

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**SECHZEHN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Akon trudged into the Twelfth Division labs at dawn on Saturday, clinging to his large thermos of coffee for dear life and already itching for a smoke. He sat at his desk, pressed a button, and watched his computer boot up as he savored sweet, sweet caffeine. Peace in the lab. Yes.

When his captain materialized from the shadows like a ghoul, Akon didn't even flinch. “Good morning, Captain.”

Kurotsuchi looked more irritable than usual-- must've pulled a third all-nighter. He carelessly tossed a tablet onto Akon's desk. Rude. “After your initial rounds, your project for the day is to study this evidence and research the relevant areas in our databases. Double check the integrity of any sensors involved. Report anything interesting to me.” With that, Kurotsuchi went his way. Akon stared after him.

Well, that was ominously vague.

Curious but also in possession of a healthy sense of self-preservation, Akon set aside the tablet and went through his daily start-up routine as ordered. Thinking ahead, he set up several diagnostics to run on various sensor arrays before the bulk of the workforce showed up and slowed scans down.

After an hour of checking on various experiments and specimens, Akon finally sat down with the tablet. At first he didn't understand why the hell he had been given articles about missing human girls, but he slowly became engrossed by the details and speculation about the patterns formed by them which Urahara had included in his notes. Akon went through everything a second time, outlining a research plan. After mid-morning rounds, lecturing someone regarding lab fire prevention after a spectacular pink blaze, and lunch, Akon sat down to research in earnest. The more data he looked at, the more he frowned.

That couldn't be right.

But the more he looked, the more all the various points of investigation agreed. What they agreed upon made no goddamn sense, but that many independent points of confluence was hard to argue with. Time for independent confirmation.

Akon went to the Spiritual Wave Measurement Lab and approached Rin Tsubokura. More considerate than his superior, Akon got Rin's attention then stood back and silently waited for him to finish what he was doing. Five minutes later, Akon gave Rin a blank research outline with no context as a control. Rin eyed him curiously but Akon refused to elaborate.

Four hours later, Rin appeared in Akon's doorway sporting an uncharacteristic frown.

“Yes?”

“This makes no sense.”

Akon sat back. “I'm not the only one, then. Any ideas?”

Rin looked down at his tablet doubtfully. “I suppose that sector of the remote sensor array could be compromised. I ordered Kajiura's team to manually inspect it and overhaul it. I don't really think they'll find anything, though-- the likelihood a cluster of errors this dense would go unnoticed for almost thirty years is very small.”

Akon leaned on one elbow and propped up his head. “What do you propose, then?”

“On-site readings,” Rin said, pursing his lips. “The portable reishi analysis machine has more delicate capabilities than the wide-scale sensor array. I'd... like to confirm these readings before you report to Captain Kurotsuchi. Have proof that it's not long-term shoddy maintenance.”

 _Keep his department alive and sane if possible_ , Akon translated. “Are you volunteering?”

“Yes.” Rin looked up, worried. “I've done it before. I'll have to devise a pattern for taking readings first, though. During the Winter War I had actual battle sites to target. That made it easy.”

Akon rocked his office chair. “There are potential sites of disturbances in the information I held back. I'll forward it all to you. Submit your plan tomorrow and I'll approve your field research senkaimon permit with third seat authority. Keep it quiet for now.”

Rin bowed. “Yes, sir.” He looked up. “If some kind of disturbances brought your attention to this, do I-- uh, do I need an escort?”

Akon grunted. “I'll arrange something.”

§ x § x §

At two in the morning, Ichigo stealthily turned off the television and rose from the couch. The evening had turned into something of a game night slash slumber party while his sisters tried to cheer up their friend. Ichigo had been glad to contribute-- hey, if his bickering with Karin over her ( _totally unfair_ ) actions taken in a video game entertained Homura, who was he to take that from her? The girls had ended up falling asleep together during a movie, all cuddled together among pillows and blankets on the floor. He watched them for a minute-- his sisters, bless their hearts, looked like they were trying to protect Homura in their sleep while she curled in on herself-- before turning toward the kitchen.

He smelled tea. The old man had stayed up late to talk.

Ichigo entered the kitchen, looked at Isshin sitting at the table with two steaming mugs, and gestured toward the clinic. Isshin raised a brow and followed him. Ichigo gently closed the door behind them. They settled in Isshin's office.

“Sorry, didn't want to wake them.”

“I understand. Sooo, what the hell happened while I was out?”

Ichigo heaved a sigh and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “Pretty sure I saw a fourteen-year-old girl have some kind of panic attack or PTSD episode then brutally suppress it the moment she noticed an adult was approaching.”

Isshin winced. “Your faces make sense now.”

Ichigo rubbed his eyes. “Seeing a kid like that-- a girl the same age as Karin and Yuzu-- seeing her just _stop breathing_ then hyperventilate and cry... God.”

Isshin silently pushed a mug toward his son. Ichigo took it gratefully.

“How much did she tell you?”

“Not a lot, but what she _did_ tell me... That poor girl.”

Dread settled in Isshin's gut. “How much liquor am I going to want to numb my rage at the world?”

“A lot. Hell, _I_ want a lot. And to smash things. I want to smash a lot of things.”

Isshin sat back and took a deep breath. “Tell me.”

Ichigo carefully put the tea mug down on the desk then gripped the arms of his chair as though strangling something. “Something crushed one of her friends in its hand and ate the body of another friend after biting her head off. Homura implied she's seen more than that-- said she keeps trying and trying and trying to save 'them' but 'they' keep dying, no one will ever be safe, least of all her, and 'it' will never end.”

Isshin covered his face with both hands and focused on breathing and staying calm instead of exploding in parental rage.

A good five minutes slid by in tense silence before Isshin could bring himself to speak. “Learn anything else?”

Ichigo blew out a deep breath. “I think you're right about her being skittish of adults. Authority figures? I dunno. She got withdrawn and jittery when I brought up seeing Urahara tomorrow.”

“Why'd you tell her? Kisuke was just going to do a passive scan.”

Ichigo shrugged. “It made sense at the time. I had kinda talked her into letting me help her so I thought I'd go for it-- get her to feel like she was taking control of things by seeking him out herself, you know? But I think I went too fast for her there. My bad. But I offered to be a go-between so hopefully she'll cooperate once she's had some sleep.”

They sat in silence a few moments before Ichigo hesitantly continued. “I've been wondering all night... about her friends....”

Isshin raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Are there Hollows that eat physical bodies as well as souls? Because it seems like if a Hollow had knocked her friends' souls out then... you know... there should be bodies left behind.”

Isshin frowned. “There were several reports of dead girls with no apparent cause of death.”

“Yeah, I looked at the articles on my phone again when the girls were watching movies. But Homura said 'Mami' was beheaded and eaten and she's still listed as missing. She couldn't get out the second friend's name, she was hyperventilating so hard, but it started with an M. The only one that fits is the missing Madoka girl. _Where are their bodies?_ ”

“That's a good question. Something bizarre is happening up in Mitakihara.”

Ichigo looked at his father darkly. “When Urahara figures out what's going on up there, I want you to tell me so I can kill the bastards myself.”

Though grim, Isshin smirked. “Ohooo, that attached already?”

Ichigo scoffed. “As if you aren't.”

“You got me there, son.”

Ichigo looked at the ceiling for a minute, thinking. “I wonder if she's a Fullbringer.”

“What makes you think that?” Isshin asked with raised eyebrows.

Ichigo rocked his head back and forth. “It doesn't seem quite right, but that's the thing that makes the most sense. You said you noticed that Hollow reiatsu, right? Well, when she was upset it kinda... rose to the surface, I guess. But she immediately reined it in. Fullbringers have Hollow-like powers so that would match, but then again, her reiatsu didn't feel Hollow-like when we sensed her fight earlier. My second guess would be a Visored with an Inner Hollow that got near the surface when she was distracted by her freakout, but I don't know how the hell that could be possible.”

Isshin stroked his chin. “Well, Aizen was conducting secret Hollowfication experiments on souls for decades. I suppose there could be some wandering around unnoticed if Twelfth didn't find all of his records in Hueco Mundo.”

Ichigo stared at him with flat trepidation. “There's an option the world could do without. If that turns out to be the case, I'm busting into his dungeon to curb-stomp him.”

Isshin sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes. “Well, all we have for now is speculation. We'll just have to see where tomorrow takes us. Let's go to bed.”

Ichigo hummed his agreement and followed his father into the house. As they made for the stairs, they heard a soft whimper. They checked on the girls and found Homura shifting restlessly in her sleep.

“Nightmares,” Ichigo said softly.

Isshin frowned and cautiously approached the girls. He bent, lay his hand over Homura's eyes, and murmured something. Homura's tense body relaxed. When he returned to Ichigo, his son looked at him questioningly.

“Hakufuku,” Isshin said under his breath. “A kidō usually used to cause people to go to sleep in such a way that it makes their memory of the time right before the spell is cast rather vague. It's essentially a gentle sedative.” Both men looked at the girls. “I don't like to do it but I think she really needs a solid night's sleep.”

Ichigo hummed in agreement. They said good night to one another and parted at the top of the stairs. That night it was Isshin and Ichigo who lay awake worrying instead of Homura.

§ x § x §

Homura woke more refreshed than she had in... probably years. When Yuzu crawled away to start puttering about in the kitchen, Homura rolled onto her back and drowsily stared at the ceiling. She felt... mellow was a good word, she thought. Pleasant. Her eyes were drooping again when she heard a shout from upstairs followed by a window slamming closed and a scream outside.

Homura sat up swiftly, ready for a fight. Karin reached up and grabbed the back of Homura's nightgown and yanked her back down into the blanket nest. “Calm down. The men in the household are just doing their morning greeting ritual.”

“W-what?”

The front door slammed open and closed. Isshin wobbled into the hallway and stopped between the kitchen and living room. He dramatically leaned on the kitchen doorjamb and wailed, “Yuzuuuu! Big brother is being meeean to Daddy agaaain!”

Karin covered her eyes and grumbled, “My father is a five-year-old.”

“You should know better than to attack him in bed, Daddy!” Yuzu's voice chided.

“I was just saying good morrrniiiing,” sobbed Isshin.

“ACT YOUR AGE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD,” Ichigo shouted down the stairs.

“B-but Ichigooooooooo!”

“CAN YOU AT LEAST _PRETEND_ YOU'RE AN ADULT WHILE WE HAVE A HOUSEGUEST?!”

“B-but I AM an adult!”

“I'VE MET TEN-YEAR-OLDS MORE MATURE THAN YOU!”

“MASAKIIIIIIII, OUR SON IS SO CRUEL!!!!!! WAAAAH!”

“FOR GOD'S SAKE, OLD MAN, IT'S SUNDAY MORNING! SOME PEOPLE WANT TO SLEEP IN! SHUT THE HELL UP!”

A thrown shoe rocketed down from the landing and pelted Isshin in the side of the head.

“MA-SA-KIIIIIIII! OUR SON IS A SURLY, VIOLENT, REBELLIOUS YOUNG MAAAN! WHAT DO I DOOOO? WHERE DID I GO WROOOONG?!”

“SHUT UP OR I'LL _SHOW YOU_ SURLY AND VIOLENT! ”

“WAAAAH, YUZU, BIG BROTHER IS THREATENING DADDY!”

“That's nice, Daddy,” Yuzu chirped.

Isshin wandered away, bawling.

Karin sighed and glanced at Homura, who was frozen in confused shock. “Kurosaki men are loud idiots with bizarre habits, Homura. It's just a fact of life. Accept it and move on or you'll go insane.”

“But-- but they were fighting. Weren't they?”

“It's how those numbskulls show affection. Ichi-nii says it probably comes from Dad's family back in Soul Society. Apparently they're known for brash eccentricity and explosions.”

“Eccentricity.” Homura stared doubtfully. She wasn't even going to touch on _explosions_.

Karin snorted. “I know, right? Understatement of the century.”

§ x § x §

After a lively late breakfast, Ichigo lured all three girls out of the house with the promise of a movie and lunch on him. Homura literally could not remember the last time she had been to a theater. She thought it was something animated-- maybe with her mother? Whatever. Guilt crept up on her for doing frivolous things instead of, say, stealing more weapons for her stash. But she really wanted to find out more about Ichigo and shinigami, and in order to do that she had to go with on the outing.

(The fact that it felt good to slow down a bit and do something that didn't involve life-and-death decisions risking her friends' lives and souls was shamefully boxed up and hidden in a dark corner of her mind.)

When they were wandering around the park with dessert crêpes from a vendor's cart, Ichigo gently broached the topic of Homura's problems. “Homura, have you thought about seeing the friend I told you about?”

Homura's eyes shiftily darted from one of his sisters to the other before glancing at him and away again. “Is it the man Karin and Yuzu said is a shinigami scientist?”

“Yeah, I guess that describes him.”

Homura fidgeted. “I don't want to be experimented on.”

“I don't think anyone does,” Ichigo said wryly. “But he won't do anything to you without your permission. He just wants to see how strong you are and ask you some questions.”

“He already knows about me?” Homura worried.

“Yeah. I think he saw you and Karin fight yesterday.”

Karin broke in. “Tch. Urahara is everywhere. Creepy stalker.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Not helping.

“What kind of questions?” asked Homura.

“Things about Mitakihara, about the things you've been fighting, that kind of stuff,” Ichigo replied. “I won't let him do anything to you and if the questions get too upsetting I'll make him stop. Is that okay?”

Homura nibbled on her crêpe and frowned doubtfully for a long minute, thinking. She was still a week away from her turn-back point. If the shinigami got involved, could they stop her from going back somehow? No one knew her power, though. If she kept that quiet and was careful with what other information she gave, it could be tactically useful to see how the shinigami handled things. If they decided to capture her, she could play her trump card and freeze time to escape. It would probably be more suspicious to refuse to be questioned anyway.

Homura tentatively answered, “All right... I guess.”

Ichigo smiled slightly and ruffled her hair. “Good. I know it's hard. I bet grownups haven't reacted well if you've ever said anything about it before.”

Homura thought of one early timeline when she had still been childishly naïve in which she had gotten desperate and gone to the police. It hadn't ended well. She nodded slightly.

“You won't have to worry about that with Urahara. He's a shinigami, so you won't have to convince him you can see spirits and stuff. And Karin, Yuzu, and I will be with you.”

That wasn't what she was worried about, but Homura played along and forced her shoulders to relax a bit as though relieved. She was very aware of the twins carefully watching her, too. Probably wondering if she could stand up to questioning without revealing them all. “I'll try,” Homura said quietly.

Ichigo patted her shoulder. “You're brave. Let's finish these crêpes and go visit Sandal-Hat's shop.”

§ x § x §

Kisuke Urahara was trawling supernatural forums and vaguely keeping track of the Kurosaki siblings and the mysterious girl when a senkaimon opened in the front yard and a familiar reiatsu emerged. Expecting him, Kisuke got up and double-checked the stack of supplies that had been ordered then went into the public portion of the shop. There he found Tenth Division Captain Tōshirō Hitsugaya.

“Welcome, Captain Hitsugaya!” Kisuke sang. “I have your order all put together.”

Tōshirō nodded his head respectfully. “Thank you.”

“You know you can just look at Twelfth's data for this, right?”

“Mm. I've looked at it,” replied the captain. “The cold data doesn't necessarily represent how well my subordinates are handling their assignments. I want to watch them in action from the concealing gigai and see if any would benefit from splitting or consolidating duties.”

“Ah, so responsible,” Urahara cooed.

Tōshirō rolled his eyes. “Speaking of Twelfth.” He raised an eyebrow and held out his hand. A small USB stick was in his palm. “Twelfth Division's third seat asked me to give this to you. He said it contained information you had requested and to tell you that he has initiated a more thorough investigation, the results of which he will convey to you when available.” He wasn't entirely successful in keeping curiosity off his face.

“Ah, thank you, Captain Hitsugaya,” Kisuke said, taking the storage device from him. “If Akon is digging deeper, this data should be very interesting.” He noticed the cluster of reiatsu he had been monitoring turn toward the shop. “If you'd like to hear what this is about, go ahead and hop in your gigai and I'll brief you. We have a guest coming. I need to question her but I hear she's skittish. If you want to participate, don't be all frowny and intimidating.”

Tōshirō inclined his head curiously and stepped into the back room. Yoruichi in cat form sauntered between his ankles and made him stumble. Tōshirō grumbled and kept going.

“Ah, Yoruichi! My favorite kitty-cat!” Kisuke crowed. “Is curiosity killing you?”

The cat rolled her eyes. “You can put it that way, I guess.”

Kisuke grinned. “Want to listen in and be a cute, comforting kitty for the traumatized girl?”

Yoruichi stretched and yawned. “I suppose.”

§ x § x §

Homura knew they were near their destination when her skin began to tingle at the close proximity to a great deal of magic. Reiatsu. Whatever. When the Kurosaki siblings turned into a gate, she stopped in her tracks. She was only vaguely aware of Ichigo and Karin bickering with a boy with shockingly red hair.

The quaint little shop made her nervous. As if it housed something that should be monumentally threatening but was currently laying at ease. Strangely, it brought to mind a photo she had once seen of a black leopard lounging in a tree at night-- all lithe muscle and killing power wrapped in velvety soft darkness, utterly calm and secure in its ability to fight anything that challenged it, relaxed yet aware. Actually, there were a few distinct magical signatures with that feeling. Maybe this wasn't the smartest thing to do, after all.

Yuzu slipped her hand into Homura's. “They really are nice,” she said. “They can be weird and enthusiastic like Daddy, but they mean well.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “If they go to Mitakihara and figure everything out, maybe we can prove to Kyubey that shinigami are better now.”

Homura swallowed and nodded. She followed the siblings into the courtyard.

A blond man with a goofy face wearing an odd combination of traditional clothing and a striped bucket hat emerged from the shop. “Welcome, welcome!”

“Yo, Sandal-Hat,” Ichigo said with a lazy wave.

“Come on in!” Kisuke cheered, disappearing into the shop.

Ichigo raised his brows at Homura. “Ready?”

Homura nodded and stepped forward.

Ichigo led the girls through the shop and into a back room with a table set for tea. At the table sat a white-haired boy in modern clothes wearing a neutral expression as he held his teacup. His teal eyes were curious.

“Tōsh!” Karin exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes slid to his friend. “I'm going to be surveying my subordinates at their posts. Make sure I have them allocated efficiently. Urahara told me about what's going on. I thought I'd listen in.”

Karin smirked. “Aww, what a responsible old man you are. Such a good example for your little ducklings.”

The boy rolled his eyes.

Kisuke clapped his hands. “Okay, introductions, introductions!” He turned to face Homura. “I'm Kisuke Urahara, humble proprietor of this little shop.”

Everyone but Yuzu and Homura rolled their eyes.

“This kitty who thinks she's queen of the shop is Yoruichi,” he said, indicating the cat lazing on a cushion in the corner. It looked at Homura and swished its tail. “And this young man is Tōshirō Hitsugaya.”

The boy bowed his head and murmured a greeting. So this was the “highly ranked shinigami” friend the twins had spoken of. Great, now the shinigami command structure would know about her. If they didn't already, that is. Homura wondered if he was in one of the false bodies Karin had told her about. His magic-- reiatsu, reiatsu-- was faint but undeniably present and unexpectedly icy.

Ichigo cleared his throat. Homura startled. “Oh. I'm Homura Akemi.” She bowed. “Pleased to meet you.”

“It's nice meeting you, too, Miss Akemi,” Kisuke replied. “Come, sit. I hear you have some distressing problems. Let's see what we can figure out about the situation, yes?”

They all sat around the table. Homura sat between Yuzu and Ichigo. As tea was being served, Homura's eyes kept sliding to the cat. It was watching her intently and Homura could distinctly feel that it had magic-- reiatsu. Really, “magic” was so much easier to remember.

“Oh, do you like my cat? She's such a snobby little thing.” The cat growled just loud enough to be heard. Kisuke laughed. “She knows when I'm bad-mouthing her.”

Homura looked across the table at Kisuke. She paused for a long moment, looking between him and the cat, and wondered if she was being tested. Slowly, she replied, “That's not a cat.”

Several eyebrows were raised.

“You're very perceptive,” the cat said in a deep voice.

Homura blinked in mild surprise, but otherwise just tilted her head curiously. All the shinigami mentally wondered why she simply accepted that a cat could speak. Karin and Yuzu correctly guessed that it was because of exposure to the talking cat-rabbit-thing that was Kyubey.

“I'm a shinigami like Kisuke and the boys. I have the ability to turn into a cat,” Yoruichi said. She tilted her head. “Do you know about shinigami?”

“Karin and Yuzu explained them to me,” Homura answered calmly. “Can all shinigami turn into cats?”

Yoruichi laughed. “They _wish_. No, I'm special.”

Ichigo glanced aside darkly and grumbled something under his breath.

Yoruichi's sharp eyes zeroed in on him. “I heard that.”

“Back to the matter at hand,” Kisuke interrupted. “I saw you fight those Hollows yesterday.”

“Stalker,” Karin muttered.

“You were quite efficient. May I start by asking how you came by that experience?”

So he was going for big questions right out the gate. Fantastic. Homura looked down and made a show of fidgeting with her teacup while she hurriedly thought through her answer-- how to keep it accurate and mostly truthful but vague while weaving together events from varying timelines to make a more solid story. She rifled through everything the twins had told her about reiatsu and Hollows. The others patiently waited for her.

Homura took a deep breath. “I guess it started when I was in the hospital,” she began hesitantly. “I started feeling like things were watching me and seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Karin and Yuzu said that was probably me starting to sense spirits.”

Kisuke hummed. “Probably.”

“It happened more when I started school in Mitakihara. Some of the girls in my class felt... I don't know. Different. Now I know I was sensing their magic.”

“Magic?” asked Tōshirō.

“That's what we called it,” Homura said as though defensive. “We didn't have anyone to explain things to us. We had to figure it out ourselves. I didn't know the word _reiatsu_ until I came here and really talked with Karin and Yuzu.”

Tōshirō nodded his understanding.

“So.” Homura paused, considering her words. She thought of the news articles about people seemingly compelled to commit suicide and decided to weave in her experience. “One day when I was on my way home from school I felt... weird. Depressed. When I was crossing a bridge, I felt strange... dreamy... and heard a girl's voice saying I would be better off dead and I should just die. But the voice was in my head.”

She glanced up at those gathered around the table. They stared at her, rapt.

“The voice urged you to commit suicide?” Kisuke asked.

Homura nodded.

He leaned forward on his elbows. “And what stopped you?”

Homura looked back down at her cup. “I kind of just woke up. Like when you are very tired and catch yourself as you're falling asleep at your desk. But when I woke up, there was a monster.”

“Was the monster a Hollow?” asked Tōshirō.

Homura fidgeted and shrugged. “I guess? Everything looked really weird still. I think I was... hallucinating, maybe?”

“Looked weird how?” asked Yoruichi.

“Um... squiggly? And crooked. The ground wasn't flat. And the Arc de Triomphe was there. And the sky was all twisty red swirls.” Homura wondered what they would make of that description of her first labyrinth.

Yoruichi glanced at Kisuke, who was frowning in thought.

“How did you get away?” Ichigo asked softly.

Homura's hands tightened around her cup. “Mami saved me.” And Madoka, but that wouldn't fit with the rest of her cobbled-together story. “She used her magic... um, reiatsu? She used it to make glowing ribbons to tie things up and shot... blasts of magic at the monsters until they disappeared.”

Kisuke raised his eyebrows. “That's quite advanced.”

“Mami told me it took her almost two years of practice to get as good as she was.” Not a lie.

“So this has been happening for at least two years,” Tōshirō observed, eyes keenly watching her.

Homura nodded. “So Mami took me to her apartment. She explained about how only some girls can see the monsters and that the girls who could see them had magic. She said she thought it was our duty to protect the people who can't see them.”

“That was quite noble of her,” Kisuke said quietly. “Only girls could see these monsters?”

“Yes. But it seems like anyone can get... hypnotized, I guess... like I was. Even boys and men.”

Kisuke sat back and stroked his chin, staring at the ceiling while thinking intensely.

“What happened next?” Ichigo asked.

“Mami taught me how to fight,” Homura answered. “Madoka and Sayaka are-- were-- in my class. They had magic, too. Mami started taking them with to fights to show them how to use magic. I... didn't like that. M-Madoka is-- was-- a very good friend. I didn't want her to fight. I want...ed her to stay safe. But Mami thought I was jealous of Madoka because she has-- had more magic than me.”

The shinigami glanced among one another. They could sense that Homura was strong; some of them had sensed her fight. Homura was strange enough with her high power level as a living human. A living girl with more reiatsu than her... and a concentration of girls with powers and things that preyed upon them... how the hell had Mitakihara flown under the radar, so to speak? It was sounding like Mitakihara was Karakura's long-lost sister city.

After a pause, Ichigo gently said, “I know this is hard, but... what happened to your friends? Like, in the articles, it seems like something went wrong at the hospital. Can you start there?”

Homura fiddled with her teacup and sipped from it to buy herself time to arrange the gruesome facts in her head. If her hands were genuinely shaking at the memories, so much the better for her performance. When she put her cup down, Yuzu slid her hand into Homura's and squeezed. Ichigo's hand was a reassuringly warm weight on her back. She took a deep breath, thinking of the article about the hospital incident. Even though she had lived through similar events countless times, she found speaking about what had transpired extremely difficult. This was why her modus operandi had become _repress, repress, repress_.

“Madoka told me that when she and Sayaka left the hospital, they found a monster by the bicycle racks. Sayaka hid and watched it while Madoka ran away to find Mami. They didn't think they could fight it themselves. I felt the monster and came from another direction. I tried to make Madoka run away to stay safe, but Mami got mad and used her magic ribbons to tie me up. Then Mami fought the monster by herself. She tied it up and shot it but it didn't die-- a bigger monster came out its mouth a-and bit Mami's h-head off and ate her body.” She swallowed hard. “The ribbons disappeared w-when she died and Madoka and Sayaka were scared so I fought it. I won, but....” She shrugged unhappily.

Everyone was respectfully silent for a minute. Quietly, Kisuke said, “My apologies, Miss Akemi. Did the... monster... knock Mami's soul from her body and eat it, or did it eat her body and all?”

“It ate her in her body,” answered Homura. “There was nothing left.”

Kisuke, Tōshirō, and Ichigo looked deeply disturbed.

“This Sayaka and Madoka,” said Yoruichi. “They escaped?”

“Yes,” answered Homura. “Madoka was scared and didn't want to fight. But the next day she saw another girl in our class acting strange and followed her to the TV station. She stopped the people from hurting themselves, but then the monster came out and attacked her. Sayaka was closer and got to her first. She decided to fight since Mami couldn't anymore. She saved Madoka with her magic.”

“How so?” asked Kisuke.

“She used a baseball bat like Karin uses a soccer ball,” Homura explained-- _lied--_ smoothly.

Kisuke hummed and Tōshirō nodded.

“The articles said Sayaka became erratic before her disappearance,” said Kisuke. “What happened there?”

Homura shifted and frowned. “Sayaka was fighting too much. She was getting worn out and she was upset about some boy. Then Kyōko heard Mami had died and came from Kazamino to fight things. She and Sayaka had a... really bad first meeting. So they kept fighting each other, too.”

Kisuke frowned. “I don't recall reading about a Kyōko.”

“The articles call her the mystery redhead from Kazamino. She came to Mitakihara about a week into April. Kyōko used to fight together with Mami. She was harsh on Sayaka because she thought Sayaka wasn't taking things seriously-- that she was getting off on playing the hero.”

“Didn't her family report her missing?” asked Ichigo.

“No. They're dead,” Homura bluntly answered. “Kyōko's father was a Western preacher. When he found out about her powers, he thought she was a witch... who had cast a spell on everyone... and tried to kill the whole family in a murder-suicide to escape the spell. But Kyōko survived. She's been on her own ever since.”

Most of those present stared at Homura in horror.

“Her dad-- her dad tried to kill her?! Just because she had high reiatsu?!” Karin demanded.

Homura nodded. “He killed her mother and sister, tried to kill Kyōko, set the house on fire, and hanged himself.”

More dumbfounded, disgusted horror all around.

“This... this Kyōko...” Tōshirō hedged. “Is she still...?”

Homura took a deep breath. “She's dead. And I guess I'm the only one who... misses her.”

“Oh. I'm so sorry.”

Everyone sat numbly for a couple minutes. Yuzu couldn't help sniffling.

“How... how did she...?” Karin tried to ask.

Homura looked down at the table and debated how much detail to go into. She wanted to toss the shinigami a clue, but it could be information shocking to the twins if they didn't know the truth about Witches. At length, she decided the gamble was worth it. If the twins freaked out and botched things past saving, she'd stop time and run like hell. Maybe try a different approach in the next timeline.

“Sayaka got... twitchy. Edgy.” Homura started carefully rotating her teacup, focusing on the repetitive movement. “Even Kyōko got concerned about her. After Sayaka ran away, Kyōko and I would run into her when we went to fight monsters. She was fighting sloppily and was using her magic to make her body stronger so much it obviously tired her, but she refused our help every time. Sayaka acted more and more obsessed and aggressive every time I ran into her. Her magic... even her magic felt darker and heavier. Then the night before I came to Karakura, Kyōko ran into her in the train station. Everything just... fell apart.”

Homura bit her lip and forced herself not to look at the twins. Everyone silently waited for her to continue.

“I don't know what they talked about, but Sayaka lost it. She... Her body fell down and her soul floated up and turned into a monster.”

There was an audible series of gasps around the table. Homura looked up. Karin and Yuzu were stark white and utterly still. They understood what she was implying.

Witches were fallen magical girls.

They hadn't known.

Homura couldn't stand to look at them. She looked down at her cup and pressed on. “Kyōko didn't-- didn't really understand what happened. I felt it happen. When I got there, Kyōko was running away from the monster, carrying Sayaka's body. We just-- just ran away.” She swallowed. “Kyōko took Sayaka to her hotel room. I think she used her own magic to keep Sayaka's body... fresh. She thought she could find the monster and, um, convince it to calm down and turn back into Sayaka.”

Familiar with the Hollowfication process, the shinigami began to suspect just how badly wrong everything would go.

“I thought Sayaka was a lost cause because of the other monsters we fought and that the only thing we could do for her was put her out of her misery. So Kyōko went behind my back to convince Madoka to go with her to try to get through to Sayaka. That's why Madoka didn't go to school.” Homura couldn't help the frustrated anger that slipped past her mask. She clenched her fists. Everyone remained silent.

Homura grit her teeth. “I left class when I figured out Madoka wasn't coming and may have gone after Sayaka... Sayaka's monster. But by the time I found the fight--” Homura closed her eyes. “Sayaka's monster had M-Madoka crushed in its hand and Kyōko... I think Kyōko thought that she'd turn into a monster someday, too, so she used all of her magic-- she had fiery magic-- she used it to take all of them out at the same time. There was nothing left of any of them except Sayaka's body in Kyōko's hotel. They just... burned up in front of me. I didn't know what to do, so I just got on a train and rode.”

Homura refused to look up in the ensuing dead silence until Yuzu began to cry and cling to her, her magic carrying an undercurrent of fear. When Homura did look up, she found Karin staring at the table with blank, wide eyes, Ichigo and Tōshirō looking pained and angry, and Kisuke looking grim. Yoruichi's face was unreadable, but her feline ears were laid back flat against her head.

No one spoke for a long time.

Ichigo was the first to find words. “I'm so-- _so sorry_ you had to go through that. Never-- you should _never_ have--” He faltered in frustration.

“My condolences, Miss Akemi,” Kisuke said gravely.

Homura's face remained stonily blank, but she inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment.

“Forgive me,” he continued, “but I would like to ask one favor of you.”

Ichigo directed a murderous glare at him, silently telling him to back off.

“What?” Homura asked with tired caution. Staying calm and coherent was getting exhausting.

“I don't have any more questions for you right now,” Kisuke reassured her. “I have a large map of the Mitakihara metro area. Would you be willing to mark the locations of your fights for us to investigate?”

Homura tilted her head and stared blankly as she thought. She decided she didn't see how it could hurt. “I suppose.”

“I appreciate it, Miss Akemi.” Kisuke looked her straight in the eye. “We'll figure this out and put a stop to it.”

§ x § x §

Forty minutes later, Kisuke and Yoruichi watched the last of their guests leave. Kisuke sat tapping his folded fan against the table, thinking. Early evening shadows slowly stretched across the floor.

“She's a very good liar for someone so young,” Yoruichi finally commented.

Kisuke hummed. “Very good at stretching the truth. Smart enough to stick to the truth with some adjustments instead of making up falsehoods from whole cloth. The only thing I can definitely pin as changed is the timing of her learning to fight. I'm impressed.” High praise from a former leader of the Second Division.

“Oh?” Yoruichi asked. “I didn't catch that. Do tell.”

“I saw her fight yesterday,” he explained. “That was far more than a month's worth of experience. She's very polished.”

Yoruichi hummed.

“A lot of the other stuff rings true, though.” Kisuke looked down at the map of Mitakihara and Homura's neat writing dotting it here and there. “I do think she knows more about these 'monsters' than she's telling us. Quite the interesting puzzle. I need to read Akon's report.”

Yoruichi sniffed. “You're like a dog with a bone now, aren't you?”

Kisuke laughed, gathered the map, and headed for his lab.

§ x § x §

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§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please review and further enable me with your con/crit. I wrote so much faster this week because I was so encouraged by the interest. You're great enablers. Even the critics-- you cared enough to share your insight. ;) Thank you for reading!


	18. SIEBZEHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm getting excited about the next few chapters.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**SIEBZEHN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

The walk back to the Kurosaki Clinic was hushed and worried. Homura was afraid she had said too much or said something wrong. The twins were afraid of the implications of Homura's information for them. Ichigo was worried about all the girls in general and was at a loss without a well-defined enemy to attack. Feelings and trauma were trickier beasts to wrangle.

When they got home, the girls seemed to be in a hurry to get upstairs. Ichigo quickly grabbed Homura's shoulder. “Hey.”

Homura turned to him, startled, and looked as though she expected to be yelled at. “Yes, Mr. Ku-- um, Ichigo?”

Ichigo ruffled her hair with a wan smile. “I know how hard that was. I'm proud of you. You girls go do your... girl things... and try to relax a bit, okay? Urahara will figure it out.” He looked past Homura to his sisters. “Don't worry about cooking tonight, Yuzu. I'll take care of it. You two keep Homura company, okay?”

Yuzu, still pale, nodded silently. Ichigo watched them hurry upstairs and heaved a deep sigh.

Karin ushered the other girls into their room and shut the door. She leaned back against it and stared into the room. Homura stood in the middle, Yuzu wringing her hands off to one side.

“What-- What-- What was that?!” Karin demanded. “You made that part up, right? Tell me you made that part up. Please.” She didn't have to explain what part. They all knew.

After a long silence in which Homura's face remained expressionless, Yuzu whimpered, “Please, Homura. Please explain. Did you mean-- Did-- Did Sayaka turn into a W-witch?”

Homura opened her mouth, paused, and frowned before quietly saying, “Yes.”

Karin felt like she had been stabbed. She sagged against the door. Yuzu's knees wobbled and she plopped down on her bed.

“Does... does it happen to all magical girls?” Karin nearly whispered.

“Those who aren't killed first, yes. Eventually.”

Karin and Yuzu closed their eyes and tried to make sense of the world.

“How?” Yuzu asked in a small voice. “I don't understand. How?!”

Homura primly sat in a desk chair and smoothed her skirt, eerily calm as far as the twins were concerned. “You know that when we fight in labyrinths, they taint our Soul Gems, yes? And that we _must_ cleanse them with Grief Seeds?”

“Yeeeah,” Karin said suspiciously.

“This is because if our Gems become too corrupted and we start to slip into despair and insanity, our Gems turn completely black and transform into Grief Seeds. Our souls are reborn as Witches. Then the cycle continues with newly-contracted magical girls who will defeat us and become Witches in turn.”

“I thought that if our Gems got dark it just meant our magic would be weak,” Karin said dully.

“K-kyubey didn't explain any of this!” cried Yuzu.

“Kyubey is a manipulator,” Homura said harshly, face stone cold. “The Incubator race preys upon us. They claim the magical energy they harvest from our souls is used for a good cause, but I don't care. Dishonesty is dishonesty. It claims to have no concept of deceit, but I don't believe it. I didn't find out about the Incubator's motives until after I had contracted.” Homura paused for a moment, considering her earlier story. “That's why I didn't want Sayaka and Madoka to contract. But no one ever believes me.”

Yuzu covered her face with her hands and cried.

Karin slid down to the floor and laughed darkly. “It makes sense. It makes _so_ much sense. I should have seen it. He tore our souls out. Our souls. Of course we'd have a fancy kind of Hollowfication. Of course.” She looked up at Homura with a humorless grin. “We really made a deal with the devil, huh?”

Homura looked down at her lap, not disagreeing.

“H-how long do we have?” Yuzu sniffled.

Homura shrugged and pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “That depends on how often you fight, how clean you keep your Soul Gem, and how rational you can stay. Theoretically, you could go on indefinitely if you take care of your Soul Gem and don't fall to despair. That... doesn't happen often, though.”

Karin laughed grimly again.

“What-- What happens to us when we die? Do we go to Soul Society?” asked Yuzu.

Homura was silent for a long time. “If you mean human death, like getting hit by a car or dying of cancer, that can't happen to us. As long as our Soul Gems are intact and not overly corrupted, our bodies are invincible. Our magic can overcome any wound or illness. If our Gem is too corrupted when we are grievously wounded, it tries to heal our body but the strain makes it turn into a Grief Seed.” She tilted her head sadly. “We have two possible ends: Transforming into a Witch and complete soul destruction by the shattering of our Soul Gems.”

“That bastard robbed us of our afterlives, too? _Fantastic_ ,” rasped Karin. Yuzu just stared at Homura, aghast.

They sat in silence for several minutes as the twins processed everything.

“Okay. Okay. Plans,” Karin said with forced calm. “Priority one is hunting down that goddamn sneaky Witch so we can cleanse our Soul Gems. We've gone too long without.”

Homura looked up curiously. “How long has it been since you cleansed your Soul Gems?”

Karin laughed again. It was getting disturbing. “Probably two months.”

Homura's eyebrows jumped to her hairline. “How have you not--? I mean—”

“How have we not turned?” Karin finished. “Good question. I dunno. Maybe because we don't get new Witches every other day like in Mitakihara? And when we use our powers to fight Hollows without transforming, it doesn't muck up our Gems as quickly as prancing around in a labyrinth.”

Homura frowned. “May I see your Gems?”

Karin got up and crossed the room to sit by Yuzu. Each held out her left hand and materialized the egg-shaped jewel that her soul had been condensed into. Homura slid the desk chair over to look. Both were worryingly murky, but Yuzu's more so than Karin's. Homura frowned and materialized her own Gem next to theirs. Oh, hey, hers was as bad as Yuzu's. They weren't in immediate danger of turning, but their state was concerning. Well, that explained a few things about her instability the last few days-- or so she told herself. Great. Fun times for everyone.

How the hell was Yuzu so cheerful and put-together with that much corruption? Indomitable optimism?

Briefly, Homura pictured Madoka managing to smile at her in the timeline where the two of them had defeated Walpurgisnacht together and lay near death and final corruption among the ruins. Madoka had smiled as she purified Homura's Gem even as her own was dark and cracking. Homura forcibly shoved the memory aside.

“Yeeeah,” Karin drawled. “We need to bag that Witch or we're fucked.”

“Karin!”

“Is this really the time to scold me for cussing, Yuz?”

Homura pursed her lips, then sat back and let her Soul Gem turn back into a ring. She closed her fist and opened it again, summoning the Mermaid Witch's Grief Seed to her hand. The twins startled.

“Holy shit, where did you--?” squawked Karin. “Oh. Oh. You had it before. That's right. Where... oh....” She trailed off and looked pained.

“Is that... is that Sayaka?” Yuzu whispered.

Homura hummed. “It should be good for two uses. Here.” She offered it to the twins.

Both reared back. “What? No, no way,” said Karin. “She was your friend. We can't accept that. Use it yourself.”

Homura really, _really_ had not been Sayaka's friend in this timeline. She had been ready to kill the stubborn girl when she wouldn't see reason and use a damn Grief Seed. Sure, it would have ended her suffering before she could turn into a Witch, but Homura had been nothing but a cold-hearted liar with murderous ulterior motives in Sayaka's eyes.

“She would have wanted to be useful and save other magical girls,” Homura said quietly. “That's the kind of magical girl she was. You two use this Grief Seed and I'll use the one we get from the Witch you're hunting.”

Both twins frowned hard. Everyone was quiet for a minute.

Karin darted her eyes between the Gems and the Seed. “Two uses, right? You and Yuzu use it. I'll use the one from the Witch we're gonna... put out of her misery. Yours are darker than mine, anyway.”

Yuzu turned to her sister. “But Karin--”

Karin stared Homura in the eye. “We owe you for telling us about this. It changes things. You've just let us know we can't afford to be careless. You may have put off our deaths. Thanks. So you and Yuzu share.”

Homura stared solemnly at Karin, her respect for the girl increased. Homura touched the Grief Seed to Yuzu's Soul Gem with a little clink. Darkness seeped out of the citrine, leaving it sparkling golden yellow once again in a matter of a few seconds. Yuzu sadly murmured her thanks and cradled the Gem to her chest.

Homura sat back and cleansed her own amethyst Soul Gem. When she was done, she held the Grief Seed out to Karin and gravely said, “Here. There's a little left. Not enough, but it will be better than nothing.”

Karin nodded and held her Gem out. The ruby brightened slightly, but the Grief Seed was spent. Homura tucked it back into storage to sit in stasis until she could do something with it.

After an awkward silence, Karin cleared her throat. “So. Plans. We need to hunt after school every day. Dad let Ichi-nii ditch school all the time, but he knew what was going on. I don't think we'll be able to get away with that.”

Homura tilted her head. “We just....” She trailed off for a moment, then corrected herself to something they would appreciate. “Sayaka just bought us time. You aren't in immediate danger. Skipping school should be unnecessary. I'll find an excuse to leave the house during school hours and search. If we don't find the Witch by Friday night, then we can leave for Mitakihara the next morning and get a Grief Seed there before Walpurgisnacht appears on Sunday morning.”

Yuzu bit her lip. “If Walpurgisnacht is many Witches put together... that means it's a lot of magical girl souls who fell into despair put together, right?”

“I suppose so.”

Yuzu's face hardened into determination. “We need to free them.”

Homura frowned. “You must know that if we defeat it, it will become a Grief Seed. All we can do with Grief Seeds is give them to the Incubator to be converted into raw energy. Otherwise, they just re-spawn.”

“At least that would end their suffering, though,” Karin said resentfully.

“No,” Yuzu said with a scowl. “We won't give Walpurgisnacht's Grief Seed to Kyubey. The Incubator. Whatever.”

“Eh? What else could we do?” Karin asked while Homura looked confused.

Yuzu sat straight, crossed her arms, and declared, “We give it to Mr. Urahara.”

The other two girls stared.

“What?” asked Homura as Karin grinned and said, “You're a genius.”

Homura looked back and forth between the sisters. “Why?”

Karin smirked. “If anyone can figure out how to help those souls-- and ours-- it'd be Urahara. He's a nosy troll, but he's brilliant when it comes to everything having to do with souls and spirit stuff.”

Homura frowned. “We still don't know how he and other shinigami will react to magical girls.”

“So we find out,” Karin said breezily. “You were tossing out clues, right? We have a week to see if Urahara's smart enough to figure something out and hightail it if everyone decides to grab the pitchforks and torches. And I doubt it will come to that.”

Homura remained unmoved. “You are far more optimistic than I.”

“No, we believe in Ichi-nii,” Karin asserted.

Yuzu nodded. “Onii-chan won't let the shinigami come after us.”

“And even if they were given orders, a lot of the shinigami command structure really likes Ichi-nii. Like, to the extent that a handful defied orders and deserted to help him on a personal mission during the war and all of them helped him get his powers back. And the fact that Kyu-- the Incubator tricks girls into contracts should work in our favor with the current, more reasonable leadership. We're victims. We should be able to redirect any bad reactions toward that little bastard.”

“I bet we could take Sayaka's Grief Seed to Mr. Urahara right now and everything would be fine,” said Yuzu.

Homura grit her teeth and shifted uncomfortably. “You're proposing taking an enormous risk.”

“Can't win big if you don't bet big,” Karin argued with a shrug.

Homura chewed her lip and looked down, thinking. “Perhaps,” she said hesitantly. She looked up at them fiercely. “But I don't want to take that risk until after we fight Walpurgisnacht.” Not a lie. She wanted to see where everyone's cards fell in this timeline before approaching-- or not approaching-- them in the next.

“That's reasonable,” said Yuzu with a satisfied nod. “We just have to hang in there for a week, right?”

Homura nodded agreement.

One week. Game on.

§ x § x §

Ichigo went into the kitchen and went through the motions of preparing dinner on autopilot, mind spinning.

No wonder Homura was traumatized.

There were some little things that niggled as not quite adding up, but he couldn't pin down why he felt that way. And he still didn't know what kind of powers the girl had. He wondered what other details she had glossed over that would explain how close to the vest she played her cards.

What worried him the most was her calm as she had said, _“_ _I thought Sayaka was a lost cause... and that the only thing we could do for her was put her out of her misery.”_

Lost cause. Put her out of her misery. Brr.

In that moment, there had been something distinctly weary and not-childlike in her face. Something distant and bleak. He could see it even in profile. In that moment, she had seemed much older than she appeared. It was disturbing.

Ichigo wanted to introduce whatever had beaten her down like that to Zangetsu. Have a... chat. With lots of stabbing and explosions.

Isshin wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway to watch his agitated son cook. Ichigo noticed him but kept working, darkly itemizing a list of little things Homura had said that earned whatever mysterious enemy was out there an extra Getsuga Tensho to the face.

When Ichigo reached a point where he had nothing to do but stand and wait while things cooked, Isshin spoke up. “That bad, huh?”

Ichigo turned to his father. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, too angry to actually speak coherently. He covered his face and forced himself to calm. Through grit teeth, he ground out, “On top of everything she already told me, she saw that Sayaka girl's soul Hollowfy and the unidentified redhead from the articles use all her fire-type reiatsu to burn the Hollow and herself out of existence even though the Hollow used to be her friend. And the reason the redhead hasn't been reported missing is her father found out about her powers a while back, decided she was a _witch_ , and _tried to fucking kill his whole family_ to escape some kind of imaginary curse. So of course the poor girl with powers was the only survivor and there's no one to miss her but Homura. Of _course_. I don't fucking understand people sometimes. I really don't.”

Isshin sighed heavily and sat in a chair. “Unfortunately, those with powers are so alien to the general population that I don't think the fear response will ever be wiped out. It's hard to handle when you come across violence because of powers. Poor kid.” He cocked his head. “Did Homura say what her name was?”

“Kyōko.”

Isshin hummed and nodded. “A good name. Kyōko. I'll have to look at the pictures of her again, memorize her face. A girl brave enough to face a friend-turned-Hollow and go down in flames after a life like that... she deserves to be remembered by more than just Homura. Sounds like she'd make one hell of a shinigami someday.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo said, downcast.

“I'll get the rest of the details from Kisuke, son,” Isshin said tiredly. “We'll just have to keep the girls happy tonight.”

“Uhhhhh. About that,” said Ichigo.

Isshin raised his brows.

“Karin and Yuzu took Homura's story hard. Like, really hard. Pale and scared hard. Hearing what happened to some girls with powers like they do... I think it shook them.”

Isshin closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Thanks for the heads up. We'll just have to do our best.”

“Mm.”

§ x § x §

The first thing Kisuke did was transcribe the meeting, which he had recorded, and scan the map Homura had annotated to send it all to Akon for independent evaluation.

The second thing he did was actually study the map. Homura's tiny handwriting labeled multiple points with things like “Mami saves Madoka & Sayaka,” “Mami, Sayaka, Madoka save woman,” “Mami dies,” “Madoka saves group, Sayaka saves Madoka,” and so on with dates. Most recent and most interesting were the labels on the train station (“Sayaka turns/dies”) and a lot across from the station (“Kyōko & Madoka die”). Everything was exceptionally neat except for the words “Madoka die.” Kisuke inferred that Madoka was the person Homura was closest to. That her hand would shake for her and not the others implied a deep bond. Strange, for only having known her a month. Unless that was a lie. Something was off with Homura's timing, so that could be part of it. What was most curious about the map was that all of Homura's marks were within Mitakihara proper. She hadn't labeled anything in Kazamino, Asunaro, or Shinchi. Either she was lying by omission or there were independent pockets of disturbances.

Next, he researched the story Homura had told about the ill-fated Kyōko. It took some digging without a family name, but he eventually found a series of articles about the Sakura family murder-suicide with arson. It was a tragic family history-- all four nearly starving when the father was ejected by the church for preaching contrary to doctrine, the turning of the family's fortunes with a sudden surge of believers helping the man build his own church and congregation, followed by an equally sudden descent into alcoholism featuring public rants that his eldest daughter was a witch who had cursed his family and enchanted the congregation. As Homura had said, it had culminated in the father attacking his family, setting the house on fire, and hanging himself. A follow-up article mentioned that when Kyōko Sakura was released from the hospital into foster care, she immediately ran away. So that part had all been true, unfortunately.

Third, he took a break from the material from the interview so he could look at it with fresh eyes later. Instead, Kisuke devoured the data Akon had sent him. It was almost exactly the opposite of what he had expected. Fascinating. He loved when that happened. Kisuke decided to set it aside and wait until the field investigation could corroborate the information.

After dinner, Kisuke watched the video of the interview over and over and over, taking notes. Places where the girl had paused and changed her words. Places where she avoided everyone's eyes. Things she had said that didn't quite match up with each other. Things that stuck out as interesting. What had been said-- and especially what had been left unsaid.

Homura never gave an actual description of a monster. When directly questioned, she hedged on whether or not it was a Hollow, choosing to instead focus on her surroundings. The closest to a physical description was that the monster that had killed Mami had done so by way of a larger entity emerging from its mouth. That was curious in and of itself.

Her description of waking from the suicidal compulsion sounded a lot like when a disorienting kidō was cast on someone strong enough to shake it off, though. That was interesting, especially combined with hallucinatory visuals. An area-effect kidō trap of some kind, or a Hollow-like approximation of one? It would make sense-- Homura, reiatsu strong enough to resist a spell, came to her senses, but others with low or no reiatsu would be ensnared beyond return without outside help. Which sounded like what the girls in the area were trying to be. Interesting. Actually, a soul forcibly overcoming such a spell could act as a catalyst to accelerate spiritual maturation, which would explain the girl's rapid acceleration from seeing things out of the corner of her eyes to total visibility and ability to fight. Was that what was happening with some of the other girls?

Kisuke felt like two huge clues lay hidden in the purported facts that only girls could see the monsters-- supported by the forum posts one commenter had summed up with _“_ _Whys it always a girl helps the suicidals?”_ \-- and that the monsters ate the physical body as well as the spiritual. Yet there were some bodies left behind. Unsure what to make of it yet, he noted it and scribbled a bunch of question marks and stars around it. Something important was there, he could feel it.

What was most disturbing was Homura's description of Sayaka Miki's decline. It sounded like she had begun to Hollowfy while still alive, which should not be possible with an intact Chain of Fate. Which begged the question: _Had_ her Chain of Fate been intact? Then there was the fact that Homura had been so careful in how she phrased Sayaka's fall. She looked as though she gave a great deal of thought before deciding to say anything. That strongly implied she was hiding something about Sayaka. But what? He scribbled more question marks and stars.

Then there was Homura's choice of words when talking about Sayaka. “Lost cause” and “put her out of her misery.” It was strange for a fourteen-year-old to have the logical objectivity to make that kind of call-- to completely write off the possibility of recovering her friend. Kisuke had known shinigami who didn't acquire that detachment until they had decades of experience. Seeing it in such a young girl was chilling. It was like something had gutted the girl's youthful optimism and left a veteran shinigami behind.

That... That could be important. Kisuke chewed on his pen and stared at the ceiling.

Homura definitely had more experience wielding her reiatsu than she was claiming. The passive scan he had performed on her showed even distribution and regulation implying conscious control. That took time to accomplish so flawlessly, especially while as stressed as she seemed to be. There had been Hollow-like reiatsu tainting her own, but the scan was inconclusive on the question of whether it came from her or was residue of an attack. Whichever it was, it was dormant beneath the majority of her reiatsu. Considering the tale of Sayaka Miki, he was worried.

And why had Homura looked something between ashamed and apprehensive when she looked at the Kurosaki girls after saying that Sayaka had turned? Actually, why had all three girls looked like they were having a completely separate conversation in that moment? Kisuke took a second to mourn that the Kurosaki girls weren't open books like their brother. When they wanted to, each was capable of using her known personality as a mask to hide what she really--

Wait.

He looped the video of Homura telling the story again. Watched the Kurosaki girls when she said Sayaka's soul had turned into a monster.

Terror.

While everyone was focused on Homura, they had met one another's eyes with a lightning-quick glance of sheer terror, looking like each had figured something out. They immediately looked away from each other and visibly tried to control their facial expressions. Homura had looked at them apprehensively; when she saw their faces, she avoided their eyes. But she had focused completely on the girls, as though speaking to them instead of her interviewers.

What subtext had the Kurosaki girls picked up on that no one else was privy to? _And why hadn't they said anything?_

Kisuke's mind raced. He kept circling back to the information possibly being a revelation of a threat to them. After a moment of thought, he reluctantly pulled up the results of the scan he had performed. Its scope had recorded everyone in the room, but he had only looked at Homura's results. It had been about a year since he had reason to scan the twins. Click, click, click, he was looking at the scans of all three girls side-by-side.

Well.

The Kurosaki girls were shot through with the Hollow-like reiatsu, too.

Kisuke scrubbed his hands over his face. This... complicated things. To say the least.

§ x § x §

Dinner at the Kurosaki household had been awkward and stilted, the girls solemn in the face of Isshin's increasingly ridiculous attempts to entertain them. Ichigo finally distracted them by grasping at straws and asking if the girls had done their homework. The ensuing panic had looked like normal academic desperation, but hid the girls' determination to not get detention in the coming week so they'd have time to hunt. Even Homura got involved, helping them with a couple assignments because her own school was a bit ahead of theirs. Crisis averted, the Kurosaki men breathed a sigh of relief.

Homura woke on Monday morning to a shout in the room next door, followed by a window slamming shut and a scream outside. She sat up rapidly, ready for a fight--

“Homura. Manly morning ritual. Chill,” Karin droned from her bed.

Yuzu drowsily sat up. “Wait. Why is Onii-chan still here?” When Homura raised an eyebrow at her, she clarified, “He's supposed to go to the dorms on Sunday night so he's there for his Monday morning class.”

Karin stretched lazily. “We'll have to ask later.”

They asked him at breakfast. Ichigo froze and looked like a deer in headlights. “Uh... I got an e-mail saying that my morning class was canceled, so... yeah....”

Karin rolled her eyes. “You suck at lying, Ichi-nii.”

“You shouldn't skip classes, especially this early in the school year!” scolded Yuzu.

Ichigo shrugged and looked away, not wanting to tell them he had stayed out of concern. They'd blame themselves for his truancy. Instead, he offered to walk them to school on his way to the train station.

“Excuse me,” Homura said politely. “Is there a library on the way? I didn't bring my textbooks but I want to study so I don't fall behind my class.”

Ichigo looked surprised. “Oh, uh, yeah. If you come with I'll point you down the right street. Will you be able to find your way back here?”

Homura nodded. “I'll put the address in my phone. And the clinic phone number in case I still can't get back without help.”

“Sounds cool,” Ichigo said agreeably. “You okay with that, old man?”

Isshin scrutinized Homura. “Are you sure you're okay being alone? After everything that happened....”

Homura tilted her head. “Have there been deaths and disappearances here?”

“No.”

Homura shrugged. “I should be fine, then.”

Isshin dragged one hand down his face, sensing that for all her good manners, she was as stubborn as his own children. “Let me write a note for you to carry in case a cop stops you for truancy or something. And I'll give you my library card.”

Half an hour later, Homura and Ichigo parted ways with the twins and turned toward the train station. They walked in companionable silence until they reached the library.

“Hey, Homura.”

“Yes?”

Ichigo pulled out his phone. “Tell me your number. I'll text you and you can save mine. I want you to call me if you run into something you can't handle.”

Homura blinked up at him. “But you go to school an hour away.”

“There are closer people I can call, plus I have ways of traveling quickly. Actually, wait, I'll text you Urahara's number, too. Call him first-- he's closer. You can still call me if you need help, or... or if you want to talk or something.” Ichigo scratched his neck, a bit embarrassed. “I dunno if I'll really be able to help you, but I can always listen, yeah? Oh, and if the old man gets too ridiculous, call or text me and I'll handle it.”

A few minutes later, Homura watched Ichigo as he walked away. He turned and waved lazily as he went around a corner. Karin and Yuzu had told her Ichigo was the best big brother ever. She could see why they said it now.

Homura spent the morning in the library, but not going over school subjects. Instead, she studied Karakura itself with its many oddities in recent years and checked the news from Mitakihara. Evidently there was a furor over another girl going missing overnight, this time just inside Shinchi. Something about a third-year high school girl who had leadership positions in both band and orchestra. Homura had never noticed that before. She hadn't cared about the news in previous timelines, though. If the missing girl was a magical girl, she had to be a ferociously tenacious one. Living to start third year of high school was something Homura believed was nearly impossible once contracted. That was positively ancient for a magical girl.

Homura returned to the clinic in time for lunch, figuring Isshin was the type to come hunting for her if she didn't show up. After lunch, she made a show of reading a library book about literature at the front desk of the clinic until the girls came home. The girls put away their school bags and absconded with Homura, telling their father they needed to have some fun. The girls led Homura to the train station.

“This Witch has a thing for trains,” Karin explained.

“We've only ever found it... her and her Familiars by train tracks,” Yuzu added.

Karin took a moment to cast about for the reiatsu signatures of people they knew. Urahara's crew were all at the shop. Isshin was in the clinic. Kurumadani was way to the northeast, probably beyond the high school. They were clear.

The hunt was on.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Funny thing: My word processor's spell check recognized “Walpurgisnacht” but not “citrine.” Lolwut. I know it's a holiday, but it's obscure and apparently the dictionary doesn't know a lot of precious/semiprecious gems. *adds*


	19. ACHTZEHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: S'uuuuuuup?
> 
> Just want to mention I'm using Shino and Ryūnosuke from the beginning of the Thousand Year Blood War arc of Bleach in this chapter. However, as I am ignoring that actual plot, they have not been to Karakura.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ACHTZEHN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

The map and transcript Urahara had sent to Akon delayed Rin's departure to nearly noon on Monday due to adjustments in research sites and arrangements for escorts. Not wanting to raise any alarm, Akon approached the captain of the Thirteenth Division to request a pair of unseated officers who were good but needed more experience in the World of the Living to escort a scientist conducting an experiment. Captain Ukitake had cordially agreed, smiling though his eyes were sharp. He may as well have said, _“I'll cooperate, but you had better not be throwing my subordinates into the lions' den. Or else.”_ As always, Akon wondered how the most senior captains in the Thirteen Court Guard Divisions managed to so casually project threats wrapped in good cheer.

Rin emerged from a senkaimon flanked by two young shinigami, Shino and Ryūnosuke. All three stood in the air and appreciated the bird's-eye view of the city.

“It's so pretty!” Shino said in surprise. She shaded her eyes and looked around. “I've never seen buildings like that!”

Rin smiled. “I'll take some pictures between tests. I wonder what all those glass towers will look like when they're lit up at night?”

Ryūnosuke craned his neck to take in the city. “Ehhhhhh? This city is bigger than I thought it was. The mission brief said it's classified as Level--”

Rin laughed loudly and awkwardly. “We'd better get to work!” He looked down. They had emerged from the senkaimon just above the train station in the central part of town. He pointed down at it. “The first test site is there, then we'll cross the tracks to that construction site over there.”

“What are we even doing, Department Head Tsubokura?” asked Shino. “The brief just said we're escorting you.”

“Ah, just call me Rin. It's easier,” Rin said while waving his free hand. The other was holding a huge bundle slung over his back. “And I'm taking some readings from the sites of some disturbances for further study.”

“What kind of disturbances?” Ryūnosuke asked curiously.

“Ah, it would take too long to explain. Come on, let's go.”

They landed on the platform unnoticed. Rin set the bundle down, rummaged, and took out something that looked like a big snail mounted in a metallic dowsing rod. The snail had a single antenna, upon which was a spinning radial.

“What the hell is that?” asked Shino while Ryūnosuke cringed away.

“Just a sensor. Please excuse me while I work,” answered Rin.

The two escorts were soon bored as Rin wandered around, casting about the building unseen by the lunchtime commuters. When he reached a bench on the far platform, he frowned at his snail-thing and returned to his bundle to fetch a bulky thing that looked like a giant slug with three eyes and another radial. Also, it had claws. Big claws. Rin carried it over to the bench and carefully set it down. It promptly began spewing paper, its claws acting like the recording pens of a seismograph. Whatever it was doing apparently fascinated Rin, but the two escorts didn't understand a jot of it. They stayed there for well over an hour before Rin packed up the giant slug, retrieved the dowsing snail, shoved the bundle at Ryūnosuke, and wandered across the tracks while looking at his handheld sensor. The construction site across the way began dully as the workers were lounging around or gone for lunch. So of course Rin spent a good hour wandering around the place, then another hour with the big sensor on a particular catwalk. At least the workers were back to doing interesting things to watch by then.

Around three that afternoon, Rin stood straight and stretched. “All right, two down, thirty-seven to go!”

Shino and Ryūnosuke shared a glance. This was going to be a loooooooong mission.

§ x § x §

High on a construction crane, a white creature watched the shinigami with expressionless red eyes as its fluffy tail swished in the shadows inside the support frame.

§ x § x §

Karin, Yuzu, and Homura returned to the clinic after an afternoon spent fruitlessly wandering in the areas near the railroad tracks. Whatever Witch was out there, it was very good at hiding. While Yuzu cooked dinner and Karin vented her frustration on video game enemies, Homura pulled up articles about trains on her smart phone. Her hope was that something she read would spark an idea of where to look. She had wanted to go hunting at night like she did in Mitakihara, but the twins had indicated that would be a last-ditch tactic because Isshin might sense them moving around town. If not him, then the people at Urahara Shop. It left a sour taste in her mouth but Homura supposed potential allies were worth some patience. And really, she hadn't realized how constantly exhausted she had been until she slowed down this weekend. It seemed fitting that she would go into what would potentially be her most promising timeline well-rested and renewed.

Monday night passed much like Sunday night had, and Tuesday in turn passed much like Monday. Until that afternoon, when the girls found a labyrinth.

They had been walking in an alley between a grocery store and the train tracks when their Soul Gems suddenly glowed. They continued cautiously until they found the orange pumpkin/clock sigil that had appeared in the train station. As the girls walked through, the alley abruptly disappeared and was replaced by the demented subway station full of clocks Homura had found when she first arrived in Karakura. Again, it didn't have the heavy sense of presence a true labyrinth held.

“Another damn Familiar,” Karin complained.

Yuzu sighed. “We can't afford to let it mature into a duplicate of this Witch. We need to kill it.”

Homura stepped forward. “Karin, only transform if it's absolutely necessary. Minimize the risk to your Soul Gem and save it for fighting the Witch.”

“Got it,” Karin agreed unhappily.

Homura and Yuzu held up their Soul Gems and let their power loose, clothes transforming into their battle costumes. Homura drew a handgun from her shield and Yuzu summoned her whip.

“You... you weren't kidding about the guns,” Karin said dully.

Homura's lips quirked into the slightest of smirks before her face went cold and focused. “Let's make this quick.”

They navigated the winding maze of subway tunnels by the violet light of Homura's Soul Gem. Homura found the labyrinth unusually complex for a mere Familiar. Whenever they actually found the Witch, it was sure to be a pain to fight. They were **j** ust getting sick of the reverber **a** ting ticking of the countless clocks when they emerged into a subway station li **k** e the one they had fought in the week before. Mismatched cl **o** cks on the walls, mechanical wreckage all over the ground, and a **b** izarre turnip-headed scarecrow dressed as a train conductor spinning around on its pole on the platform as though dancing. They stood and stared at it for a minute.

“We can do this quickly,” Homura said calmly. “Yuzu, restrain it. I'll shoot.”

Yuzu nodded firmly and jogged away. Karin stayed just out of sight, feeling incredibly awkward watching someone else partner with her sister. Homura stalked around the platform, gun held down but at the ready. The two fighters made eye contact. Yuzu lashed out with her whip and ensnared the Familiar, the golden cord crushing the scarecrow's fairy wings. The turnip blew on its whistle, creating an ear-splitting shriek of--

 _Click_. Time stopped.

Yuzu was frozen mid-wince. Karin was a statue covering her ears. Homura positioned herself so neither sister would be caught in friendly fire and methodically emptied the Beretta's entire magazine toward the Familiar, bullets freezing in midair split seconds after she fired them. Satisfied, Homura remained in firing position and allowed time to resume its flow.

All fifteen bullets impacted the turnip head at the same time, causing it to explode.

Homura tucked the gun away and released her transformation before the labyrinth could disintegrate. Yuzu followed suit out of habit, still in shock. When they reappeared in the alley, Karin, who had been gaping, squawked, “How the hell did you do that?! I didn't even see you move!”

Homura elegantly tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Practice,” she said coolly.

“How many Witches have you fucking fought?!”

Yuzu looked scandalized. “Karin!”

“Too many,” answered Homura.

“We need to get home,” Yuzu interrupted before Karin could escalate. “I need to start dinner.”

Karin huffed but immediately fell into step beside her sister. Homura followed.

“You need to teach me how to move that fast, goddamn.”

“Karin!”

“I believe you would call it a trade secret,” Homura smoothly replied.

Karin barked out a laugh. “I _like_ you.”

Though she didn't show it, Homura found herself pleased.

§ x § x §

Kisuke Urahara was in the middle of cataloging the various relevant stories he was finding on supernatural message boards into a spreadsheet, absently keeping track of the three girls wandering around town, when their reiatsu suddenly disappeared. He sat straight and cast about more thoroughly. Gone. His pen dropped from his mouth as he stood quickly. A passing thought struck him; he grabbed a reiatsu-concealing cloak and donned it as he leapt out of the shop toward the last place he had sensed the girls.

 

Sensing from a distance while distracted was imprecise. The best Kisuke could do was figure they had been in the general area of a train crossing. He cast about for the girls' reiatsu again. Nothing. He looked around a radius of about a block. Nothing. So he perched on a building, rummaged in his pockets, and pulled out something that looked like a smart phone. Its function was similar to the dowsing snail Twelfth Division used, but more portable. Kisuke cast about for anything unusual.

Using the sensor, he found an anomaly near a grocery store. He reached out his senses. It was as if there was a slight weakness in the fabric of reality. How curious. He'd never felt anything quite like it before. After hopping over to a building behind the grocery, Kisuke squinted and saw something like a faint heat haze. He hadn't had much time to look at it when suddenly the air rippled and the three girls appeared out of thin air. The visual distortion immediately disappeared.

Kisuke stayed back and frowned in thought as the girls chattered and left. A few minutes after they were out of sight, he hopped down to the alley behind the grocery and approached the source of the distortion. There was barely any sign it had existed. What was there was fading fast. He took readings as quickly as he could. From this close he could sense the faintest of Hollow-like residue fading more slowly than the distortion. It was slight enough that Kisuke never would have noticed it in this Hollow-infested town if he hadn't been specifically looking for something in that exact place.

Fascinating.

Really, what _had_ the Kurosaki girls gotten themselves into?

§ x § x §

“Have we done something wrong?” Shino asked rhetorically from her perch on a burnt-out restaurant in southern Kazamino City. “Is Captain Ukitake punishing us? Because this feels like punishment. Death by boredom. There isn't even anything to fight here. I haven't sensed a single Hollow. Why does this guy even need an escort?”

Ryūnosuke scratched his temple nervously. “At least it's an easy mission.”

“ _Boring_. Easy is _boring_.”

“Um... at least it's almost dark? We'll get to see Mitakihara all lit up again.”

Shino sighed dreamily. If nothing else, the mission was worth seeing the center of the human city lit up like a sparkling fairy kingdom at night. All those fanciful glass towers with their multicolored lights made quite a visual impact.

“Hey, guys!” Rin called up from an empty lot behind the automotive repair shop next door. “I'm ready to move on!”

Shino stretched. “Thank God. At least these Kazamino stops have been shorter than the Mitakihara ones. C'mon.”

Both escorts jumped down to the scientist. Rin was looking at a map, first checking off a small circle representing their location, then tracing his finger to the southeast and stopping on the next marker.

“Okay, we're going to the coast, here, in Shinchi. We'll spend the night there, then swing back to the west to the border of Shinchi and Mitakihara.” Rin folded the map and collected his things.

“The coast?” asked Shino. Her eyes sparkled and she held her hands to her cheeks. “I've never seen the ocean before! Ooh, I'll be able to watch the sun rise over the sea!”

Ryūnosuke glanced aside and wryly muttered, “You say this mission is boring, but you keep acting like a tourist on vacation.”

Shino promptly punched her friend in the face.

§ x § x §

Glowing red eyes watched the shinigami's antics from the shadows under a car parked behind the mechanic's shop.

§ x § x §

When the girls got back to the clinic, they found Isshin sitting in the kitchen looking worried.

“What's with you, Goat-Face?” Karin drawled.

Isshin frowned. “Did anything happen while you were out? I mean... you were gone longer than I thought you would be.”

“Ha? We stay out this late a lot. The sun isn't even down.”

“Yeah, Daddy,” added Yuzu. “We were just walking around with Homura.”

Isshin directed a level stare at each of the girls in turn, gaze keen as though trying to see through them. His face suddenly went cheerful. “If you say so!”

The sisters glanced at each other. Their shinigami father was paying more attention to their reiatsu signatures and noticed them blip out of existence for fifteen minutes. Great. Something else to worry about.

Homura broke the tension by asking if Yuzu needed any help preparing dinner. Yuzu looked devious and got all three of her “assistants” plopped down at the table dicing vegetables and peeling carrots before they knew what was happening.

Karin and Isshin were bantering good-naturedly when Yuzu gasped, “Oh! Homura! I forgot to tell you! I washed your uniform. It's such a pretty uniform!”

Homura looked up at Yuzu. “Ah. Thank you.” She felt a sharp pain and looked down. Her paring knife was embedded in her left thumb. “Oh,” she said with mild surprise.

“Hm?” Isshin glanced over and stood sharply, snapping into doctor mode. “Yuzu! Clean towel!” Yuzu dug in a drawer as Isshin said, “Homura, don't take out--”

Homura removed the knife. The wound bled profusely.

“--the knife. Ahhhhhhhh, nooo--”

“It's not that bad,” Homura tried to calm him.

“That had to have hit bone... severed a tendon? Ah, you're going to need stitches--” Isshin grabbed the towel from Yuzu and wrapped it around Homura's hand. She blinked up at him, entirely too calm for someone who had nearly severed her thumb at the knuckle.

“That won't be necessary,” Homura demurred.

“No arguing. To the clinic!”

Homura sighed, held the towel and followed him, allowing her magic to heal most of the damage. Stitches would be terribly inconvenient. Isshin threw a strange glance at her over his shoulder as they went down the hall. Once in an exam room, Isshin prepared sutures and first aid supplies, cleaned the wound, and found... a slice. Not even a serious one. More like a long, deep paper cut. He blinked.

“I told you it's not that bad,” Homura said quietly.

“But--” Isshin frowned in confusion. He had seen how deep the knife was before Homura removed it. “But... so much blood....”

“Sometimes shallow wounds bleed the most, right?”

Isshin looked up into Homura's eyes. She was completely placid, showing no signs of pain or panic. For a moment, her stare felt like the obligatory patience an adult showed a small child who was disagreeing because they didn't understand something. Like she was waiting for him to catch up with her.

“Uh... yeeeah,” Isshin agreed, face baffled. “Let me just... get the butterfly bandages.”

When he was done dressing the wound, Homura thanked him politely and strode from the clinic with the dignity of a queen.

What the hell.

That wound should have been bone-deep and done damage to the tendon. It also should have been extremely painful. Was her calm due to shock? He didn't think so. All he could think of was how Homura had raised her reiatsu for the duration of the walk to the clinic. What had she been doing? How had the wound hea--

Healing herself. She had been healing herself.

That was an advanced technique that stymied many shinigami, and a fourteen-year-old girl just casually did it without looking at the wound. And she had no visible reaction to the pain when he doused the wound in disinfectant. Even his battle-hardened son would snarl when his wounds were disinfected.

What the hell.

§ x § x §

Tuesday night passed into Wednesday morning. Kisuke Urahara was once again absently tracking the three girls, factoring Isshin's call about Homura's apparent healing skills into his dossier on her when he sensed her move away from the library well before lunch. Curious what she was up to and short on new information, Kisuke grabbed the reiatsu-concealing cloak, wrapped himself in an illusory kidō, and skipped across the rooftops to find her.

Kisuke found Homura about two blocks from the train station. He stood on a tall building and watched as she paced the sidewalk for the length of a city block, turned toward the tracks, went back the way she came alongside the actual tracks, then exited at the beginning of the city block on the opposite side of the tracks. She then repeated the pattern, zigzagging her way down the railway corridor. It was quite obviously a search pattern. What was she looking for? Another disturbance? And what was she holding in her hand and watching like a compass?

Frowning, Kisuke hopped buildings to get closer and pulled out binoculars. Cupped in the girl's left hand was an egg-shaped amethyst set in a golden cup-like stand that conformed to the egg shape of the gem. The gold was covered in decorative filigree and a small, diamond-shaped amethyst was attached to the crown of the large gem. It reminded him of a Fabergé egg. The girl maintained a steady pace, completely absorbed in staring at the gem. Was it some kind of sensor?

Kisuke followed her along the train tracks for over an hour. She followed the rails into the next city over, but didn't get very far before a store owner putting out the trash in an alley facing the tracks spotted her.

“Hey, kid! The hell are ya doing in there?! Ya got a death wish?!”

Homura looked up and just blinked at him, face disinterested.

“Aren't ya supposed to be in school?!”

Homura ignored him and started walking again.

“Hey, brat! I'm talkin' to ya!”

The girl's mouth turned down into an irritated frown.

“I got a cop buddy out front who's gonna wanna talk to ya! Hey, brat! C'mere before I call the cops on ya for truancy!” The man leaned in the back door of the store and hollered, “Heeey, Mataro! There's some brat walking the tracks!”

Kisuke almost missed what happened next. Homura glared at the man's back and pursed her lips disdainfully. The gem flared with violet light and disappeared as she called up her reiatsu in a tightly-controlled manner, manifesting a round, silver buckler on the wrist of the hand that had been carrying the gem. Just as he thought she might attack, she disappeared. There one instant, gone the next. Kisuke cast about for her. After reaching far, he found her... almost back to the train station, veering south toward Kurosaki Clinic?

_How?_

Because that _had not_ been shunpo. Or any flash step technique that he knew of, shinigami, Quincy, Arrancar, or Fullbringer. With those, his decades sparring with Yoruichi had won him the hard-earned skill of being able to detect the path the quarry took while in motion between Point A and Point B even if he couldn't see it. It was an automatic thing for him now. But there was no trace of whatever path Homura took. She had just blinked out of existence and appeared elsewhere.

Kisuke frowned and turned back toward Karakura. He'd be gleeful over the riddle this girl posed if the Kurosaki girls weren't somehow tangled up in it as well.

§ x § x §

Wednesday afternoon found the shinigami research mission just inside Mitakihara, about a mile north of Shinchi and a few blocks south of Mitakihara Middle School. Rin set up the large slug sensor on the flat roof of a tall office building and was soon completely absorbed in his work. Shino and Ryūnosuke perched atop the roof access shack. Trying to stave off boredom, they began playing a game of I Spy while taking in the view and watching for enemies.

Forty minutes later, both escorts shivered slightly.

“You feel that?” Shino asked, looking around.

“Yeah,” Ryūnosuke answered, frowning. “What was that?” He turned toward the scientist. “Hey, Rin, did you--? Eh?”

Shino turned to look. “Hey, Rin! What _was_ that?”

Rin stood with his back to them, head tilted back slightly as though looking at the sky. The creepy device at his feet had stopped printing. He showed no sign of having heard them.

Shino cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Heeeeeeeeeeey!”

No reaction.

Frowning, Shino scoffed and hopped down to Rin's level. Ryūnosuke followed her. As they approached the scientist, both noticed their vision blur a bit and felt slightly disoriented.

Shino marched up to Rin. “Hey!” She stood in front of him and waved her arms. “Helloooooo?”

No response. Rin stared blankly into space, eyes unfocused.

Ryūnosuke joined her, worried. “Is something wrong with him?”

Shino squinted at the scientist. “Hey, what's on his neck?” She reached out for the blurry patch of pink.

Both escorts shuddered, a chill running up their spines.

A smug girl's voice airily said, _He's joining my marching band. You should, too. We can play music forever!_

Ryūnosuke swayed, dizzy and confused. “But... I don't know how to play anything....”

_That's fine! If you join me, you'll learn in no time!_

“But...”

Shino blinked hard and shook her head. “What--?” She repeated the action. “Ryūnosuke, snap out of it!”

Ryūnosuke blinked at her dreamily. “Shino...?”

_You can play your own funeral march!_

“Wake up, idiot!” With that, Shino hauled off and punched him, then drew her blade.

Ryūnosuke stumbled, then straightened, holding his cheek. He looked more coherent. “W-what's going on?”

Eerie girlish laughter and the rattling of a snare drum keeping time echoed around them as reality warped and faded away.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .  
> ?????  
> ?????  
>  Minion: Jakob, whose duty is to keep everything on schedule.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: I've finally rolled this boulder to the top of the hill. Time to send it crashing down the other side ahahahaha~
> 
> Please review. Con/crit welcome. I hope you're looking forward to next time! *heart*


	20. NEUNZEHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the encouraging reviews!
> 
> *hums cheerfully, cracks knuckles* Let's get this party started.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**NEUNZEHN**

**TIMELINE X + N**

When the world stabilized around the shinigami, they were somewhere completely different. They were at one end of a massive, steep arena with thousands of seats filled with a wild variety of stuffed animals. Spotlights and searchlights of various colors pierced the night sky. At the far end of the field was a giant plush love seat with a heart-shaped back. Huge sweets of all kinds were strewn about it. Upon it sat a skeleton in a pink **m** arching b **a** nd conducto **r** 's suit **c** omplete w **i** th tall h **a** t, tapping a sharp baton in time with the snare drum.

_Fweeeeeeee fweet! Fweet! Fweet! Fweet!_

A whistle blew an introduction followed by booming drumbeats and horns blasting a fanfare. Rin continued to stand in a daze, but Shino and Ryūnosuke looked down and noticed that the space between themselves and the skeleton was filled by a mar **c** hing band positioned to put on a fi **e** ld show. The band was made up of identi **c** al wind-up dolls with braid **e** d brown yarn hair and button eyes. Each was crowned with a sku **l** l and a fluffy pompom. Their march **i** ng and form **a** tions were perfectly synchronized.

Ryūnosuke and Shino were still gaping in shock when the big skeleton lifted its free hand to make a beckoning motion. Rin immediately marched forward. The band's formation parted to allow him to pass.

“What are you doing?!” shrieked Shino. She turned to Ryūnosuke. “Draw your sword, idiot!”

“B-but what's going on?!” Ryūnosuke whined as he fumbled with his zanpakutō.

“Hell if I know! Rin! Hey, Rin! Wake up!”

Shino stepped forward aggressively. The band immediately closed ranks, a row of sousaphone players sliding in front. They simultaneously blew a long, low note with such force that the two Thirteenth Division shinigami were blown off their feet and into the concrete wall of the arena. The band advanced on them.

Gasping, Shino climbed to her feet and glanced at Ryūnosuke. “Get up! Fight back! Multiple target defense, like Lieutenant Kuchiki taught us!” She began muttering the incantation for a kidō.

Ryūnosuke wheezed and levered himself up, wincing as he felt something grind in his leg. “First Way of Destruction,” he gasped as he held up his free hand. “Shō!” he yelled, jabbing his hand forward, using the entire palm instead of the usual fingertip.

The first three lines of dolls were pushed back several yards, toppling into one another. Before they could recover, Shino finished her incantation with, “Sixty-Second Way of Binding: Hyapporankan!” A pale blue lance materialized in her raised free hand. She hurled it at the dolls. The advanced spell was intended to immediately replicate itself into a hundred lances which would immobilize multiple enemies. However, Shino was still young and inexperienced, so her spell only produced around four dozen rods. Even so, the toppled dolls were immobilized and an obstacle course was formed to delay the rest of the enemies. The two escorts took a moment to steady themselves, panting.

“Mission objectives,” Shino said sharply, “Retrieve Rin.” She glanced aside at the sensor slug. The importance of the data it contained struck her hard. If Twelfth had been looking for whatever the hell this was, that sensor was priceless. “Protect the data.” Shino stared forward, scowling. “Ideas?”

Ryūnosuke bit his lip and scrubbed blood from his eyes. “I don't think I can run or move around much. Something in my left leg is grinding and there's something wrong with my hip. What if we put the sensor against the wall and I stand in front to defend, and you get Rin?”

“Because that will be _so_ easy.” Shino spat blood and a tooth on the ground and thought.

“You're the one who said the mission was too easy.”

Shino cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders. Breathing hurt like hell; cracked ribs? “Shaddap.” She pointed her finger at the big slug and muttered, “Fourth Way of Binding: Hainawa.” Sparking yellow energy danced from her fingertips and lassoed the device. She hauled it to the wall and canceled the spell. “Right. Hold your ground, Ryūnosuke.”

“Be careful!” Ryūnosuke called as Shino darted forward with shunpo. He drew a deep breath and steadied himself as the musical dolls began to push through the makeshift barrier he and Shino had created.

Rin was already halfway across the field, the marching automatons smoothly parting in a wave around him as he progressed and flowing back into place behind him as though liquid. Shino hopscotched across the band, jumping from head to head over the crowd. Ahead of her, three rows of dolls knelt to expose a fourth row of clarinet players who simultaneously lobbed their instruments like javelins, each trailing glowing pink musical notes in its wake.

“Shō!” Shino called out, cutting the spell's incantation short. It diminished the spell's power, but served its purpose and knocked the clarinet-javelins off course. Shino kept running across the band. Two big drums suddenly came spinning at her from forward and to either side. With her next step, she launched herself vertically to avoid them. The drums exploded upon impact with one another and blew her back a bit. She grit her teeth, landed on a doll's shoulders so hard it crumpled beneath her, and slashed the other dolls nearby while she recovered from her landing. They collapsed with the sound of rattling bones.

Panting angrily and fending off dolls with her blade, Shino stood and snarled, “Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Thirty-First Way of Destruction: Shakkahō!”

The spell, powered by a full incantation and rage, blasted a smoking path through the ranks of the dolls. Shino wasted no time and rushed through it with shunpo. When she neared the end of the extended blast crater, she threw another Shō in front of her and used the collapsing dolls as a foothold to get above the band again. Shino saw Rin when she was about three quarters of the way across the field. Face determined, she screamed, “ Fourth Way of Binding: Hainawa!” Once again the yellow energy struck out, this time lassoing the errant scientist and yanking him off his feet.

Shino had a single moment to revel in success when the big skeleton leaned forward from its throne and stabbed Rin through the chest with its sharpened conductor's baton. Rin showed no reaction, as doll-like as the marching band. Shino watched in horror as the skeleton tugged at the end of her spell, snapped it, and lifted Rin toward its skull. The skull's jaw opened, then the skeleton put the end of the baton in its mouth, bit down, and ate Rin whole like the last dango on a skewer.

Shino had never seen death in battle before. She froze in terror until a doll stabbed her in both shoulders with a pair of drumsticks. Shino shrieked and dove forward, hitting the ground hard and immediately moving into a leg sweep to trip the dolls around her.

 _We need to escape with the sensor_ , Shino thought frantically. She'd have to fight her way back the way she had come. But was there even an exit there? Not that she had seen. Glancing up at the skeleton, which was slowly moving to stand, she wondered if they needed to defeat the ruler of whatever twisted domain they had fallen into in order to escape. How could the skeleton be defeated, though? It felt a lot like a Hollow, but didn't have a bone mask. It was made entirely of bone, though. Maybe if she broke its face? That would be like breaking a mask, right? It was her only idea, so she went with it.

Shino charged forward, repeated her Shō-skip-jump technique, and took progressively higher leaps. When she reached the end of the band, she launched herself up at the skeleton's face with a roar, blade at the ready. The skeleton swatted her like a fly, batting her back across and through the entire band until she was mere yards from a tiring Ryūnosuke. His swordsmanship and kidō were getting weak. Shino writhed, rolled to her elbows and knees the best she could-- poorly-- and screamed in agony as she threw up. She started hacking and dizzily wondered if the blood was from her lungs or stomach as she distantly heard Ryūnosuke scream her name. The hand that wasn't a shattered mess scrabbled around the ground for her blade, but it was lost.

Suddenly, all the dolls stood still and held their instruments in the air. The shinigami watched in confusion as the instruments formed a stream in the air and flew toward the now standing skeleton, the dolls collapsing like marionettes when their instruments were gone. The instruments were caught up in flowing, glowing pink musical staves and were soon bound to the skeleton. There was an overwhelming flash of light which dimmed to reveal that the skeleton had transformed.

The skeleton itself had shrunk and its uniform had turned red and featured images of bones, making it a skeleton wearing a skeleton suit. Its skull had sharpened and gained pointed sunglasses and its body had extra appendages that looked like wing bones, a pair at its shoulders and a pair at its hips. It was perched in a glowing crevice in the center of what Rin would have identified as a heart-shaped long-range acoustic device had he been alive to see it. It hovered in the air using thrusters that spewed pink light. The skeleton raised its conducting baton and jabbed it at the shinigami as though ordering an army to advance. The sound cannon blasted the arena with a sonic attack strong enough to crumble the stands and blow the shinigami into the cracked concrete wall once more.

Ryūnosuke and Shino fell to the rubble crumpled and broken. They lay there and looked at each other in fear, unable to move.

Thanks to their burst eardrums, they never heard the barrage of recorder-shaped missiles coming.

§ x § x §

A white creature perched on the roof access shack and calmly groomed its fluffy tail. After awhile, it tilted its head as though listening to something, then stretched and hopped off the roof. There was nothing to observe anymore.

§ x § x §

Homura didn't recall ever having so much trouble tracking down a Witch. She figured she'd wait until Friday to push the subject of doing a night hunt.

In the meantime, Homura was having the most pleasantly mundane week she'd had in years. Sure, she was still hunting Witches, plotting how to save Madoka, and trying to not reveal her true powers, but she was also sitting around a table going over homework at night, eating meals in a family setting, helping with chores, and was often in the presence of an adult who actually demonstrated concern for her without being clingy. That last one was something rare for her. Her uncle was one extreme while her parents had been the other. The only other adults to be moderate were Madoka's parents in one timeline during which Homura had stayed at their house. She was still unsure how to handle it, but it was mostly nice. She had even made new friends for the first time in dozens of timelines. It was something she hadn't allowed herself since the timeline Mami had found out about Witches in the worst possible way and plunged into homicidal insanity. But the twins, while upset, had rolled with the punch and stood to fight on-- possibly even more determined than before. Strange. The whole situation was surreal on many levels. But it was novel and generally pleasant, so Homura cherished it despite the uncertainty.

On top of everything else, Karakura was an Incubator-free zone. That made it heaven on earth even with the presence of Hollows. The absence of beady red eyes following her and trying to figure her out was a relief.

Speaking of Hollows, Homura encountered one herself during her wanderings on Wednesday afternoon soon after spending lunch with Isshin. She was pacing the tracks again when she felt that strange magic Karin had called a garganta, followed by the presence of a Hollow magical signature. Reiatsu. Whatever. It was actually very close to her. At some point Karin had said people with higher reiatsu attracted Hollows; Homura wondered if she should expect to see more Hollows as she wandered around with her soul out in the open.

Homura allowed her Soul Gem to return to ring form, summoned her shield, and waited. About two minutes later, a Hollow peered around the corner of a building ahead of her, sniffed, and moved into full view. It looked like a lithe, bipedal dinosaur about eight feet tall, bearing a spiked tail and a mask that looked like a fossilized dinosaur skull. A hilariously lurid shade of orange showed through the other fossilized bones decorating its body. It cast about and locked onto her. Homura raised her shield and stood her ground, face set in a hard frown of concentration. The Hollow screeched and advanced on her rapidly. She readied her shield, left arm held horizontally in front of her face as she bent her knees and leaned forward. At the perfect instant, Homura used a magic-enhanced leap to jump up and meet the oncoming Hollow while swinging her shield in a tight, backhanded arc. The glowing metal impacted the side of the Hollow's mask with the perfect velocity, causing cracks to spiderweb across its face. Homura used the point of impact as a fulcrum to spin in a clockwise circle and brutally slam her magically-hardened right elbow into the center of the mask before she could fall back to the ground. The Hollow gave one final shriek and dissolved, its shape becoming more human as it faded. Homura stood and watched the black butterfly rise into the sky, ferrying the freed soul to the afterlife.

Homura smiled slightly. That actually felt really rewarding.

§ x § x §

Kisuke sat on the edge of a tall building some distance away, absently rolling a stick of Pocky around in his mouth and swinging his legs while he watched Homura with high-power binoculars. When the girl gave a satisfied little toss of her hair and resumed her mysterious search, Kisuke lowered the binoculars and sat back.

Now _that_ had been something approximating shinigami shunpo. Completely different from however she had moved that morning.

So she could manifest a weapon. A shield was unconventional, but hey, every soul had different priorities. Zanpakutō could be rather revealing in their form sometimes. Psychologically, the girl was definitely guarded. Was she also very protective at her core? He wished she had held still enough for him to really look at the decorative designs on it. And it was interesting that he should instinctively relate her weapon to a zanpakutō. He'd have to poke at that more.

Moving on. How were the jewel, the ring, and the shield related? Was the base form the ring, and it turned into whatever tool the girl needed? Was there a set number of things it could turn into, or was it more versatile? The jewel had transformed into a ring before she manifested the shield, but it had then glowed with the same purple light as the shield appeared. Her hand had been hard to focus on from his angle so he didn't know if the ring was still on her finger as she fought. If they were all the same item, did what he had witnessed imply that the tool had to return to a base form before assuming another? That would be inconvenient. Also, an interesting check on her power.

And he hadn't felt a trace of the Hollow-like reiatsu rise in battle.

So many questions, so few answers.

§ x § x §

Homura met the Kurosaki sisters outside the gate to their school as they had agreed upon that morning. The three bought drinks from a vending machine and repeated their eastbound search of the railway corridor. Another day, another bust. It was getting seriously annoying. When they reached the edge of town without finding anything, Karin snarled and kicked a rock.

After visibly forcing herself to calm down, Karin grudgingly said, “May as well detour up to Urahara Shop as long as we're this far over. Make it look like we're not hiding anything with our wandering around.”

The other two girls had no objections, so the trio wandered northward. When they entered the little courtyard, they found a boy practicing swings with a baseball bat while a girl diligently swept the front porch.

“Hey, Ururu,” called Karin. The girl nodded a greeting at her, eyes sliding to Homura in curiosity. “This is Homura. We were here the other day, but I don't think you got to meet.”

Homura and Ururu murmured quiet greetings and bowed politely. Karin started to walk to the shop.

“Oi! Kurosaki! Not gonna introduce me?!” bellowed the red-haired boy.

“Why would I introduce anyone to _you_ , Jinta?” Karin drawled.

Just as the boy looked like he would burst with rage, Yuzu waved and cheerfully said, “Hello, Jinta!”

The boy immediately backed down and looked bashful. “Uh, hi, Yuzu. H-how are you?”

Karin and Ururu looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

When the girls entered the shop, they found a mountain of a man tending the counter. Homura couldn't recall ever seeing such a tall person.

“Hi, Tessai,” the twins said.

The big man nodded cordially and said, “Good afternoon, Karin, Yuzu.” He dipped his head at Homura. “Good afternoon, miss.”

Homura was gravely returning his nod when Urahara swept in from the stock room. “Hello, hello, hello! What can I help you girls with?” he sang. He waved his fan around, indicating shelves. “Hollow-repellent key chains are buy two, get one free today! Once opened, each is guaranteed to work for a whole month! Available in five different mascot designs! Also, imported European candy is half-off due to overstock!”

Karin had started out uninterested but perked up. “Are those Italian Glitterati things included in the sale?”

“Of course!” Urahara waved his fan at one particular shelf.

Karin crowed “Score!” and rushed over to it.

Urahara looked at Homura as though searching for something. She stared right back at him, unfazed. Urahara tipped his hat to her. “You've had quite the week, Miss Akemi. As an apology for my slow progress in this investigation, please help yourself to whatever you want from the candy section. Consider it a gift.”

Homura tilted her head and kept staring.

“C'mon, Homura!” Karin called. “Usually I'd say _don't take candy from strangers_ \--”

“Heyyyyy.”

“\--But Urahara stocks the good stuff and can't mess with it because he sells it to the normals, too.”

Urahara pouted dramatically. “You wound me, Karin.”

Karin rolled her eyes. “Psshyeah, right. Come on, Homura!”

Homura slowly walked over to Karin, glancing over her shoulder at Urahara. Karin grabbed her hand and yanked her over to the candy. “Choose!”

Homura stared blankly at the literal wall of candy.

Yuzu leaned forward and smiled over her tins of Flavigny anise drops. “Do you have a favorite foreign candy, Homura?”

Memories of her late mother taking her to a fancy candy store on the way home from the Nutcracker ballet every Christmas swam up into her conscious mind. “Marzipan,” Homura said softly. Just as softly, she immediately tucked away that set of memories. She knew better than to dwell on them these days.

The sisters made identical hums of thought as they searched the shelves. Karin jolted and darted a hand out. “Aww, yeah, he has it! This is it, right?”

Homura hummed agreement and gently took the box from Karin. She stood by the door with her box of marzipan and stared at Urahara while the sisters purchased their own candy. Urahara stared evenly back at her.

She really didn't know what to make of the man.

§ x § x §

When the girls were gone, Kisuke went to his lab to look up the results of the passive scan he had run a second time to verify the previous results. He was understandably quite surprised to see that the results were very different from Sunday. Yuzu and Homura were completely free of the Hollow-like reiatsu, while the concentration of it in Karin's soul had lessened. Kisuke frowned and scratched his head.

He really didn't know what to make of those girls.

§ x § x §

When Homura approached the gate of the twins' school on Thursday afternoon, she found Karin's white-haired shinigami friend already leaning against the wall. She slowed, unsure whether she should stay or leave. It would probably be suspicious to leave, she supposed, so she stepped up to the gate and positioned herself across from him with a quiet, “Hello.”

He glanced up from his cell phone, apparently in the middle of texting. “Good afternoon,” he said politely. “How are you... holding up?”

Homura looked down and smoothed her skirt demurely while she decided how to answer. “Well enough, I suppose. Karin and Yuzu are good company.”

The shinigami hummed in agreement. “I'm glad to hear it.”

Both stood in companionable silence until the bell rang, neither feeling a particular need to talk to the other. They were aloof in the face of the students streaming out the gates until the Kurosaki sisters approached.

“Well, looky here,” exclaimed Karin. “It's our good buddies Stoic and Stoicker.”

“That's not a real word, Kurosaki,” Tōshirō drawled. He nodded hello to Yuzu.

“It's a word if I say it is,” Karin said snobbily.

“Who died and made you god-queen of the dictionary?” Tōshirō asked, mildly caustic.

“Who said you could go back to calling me Kurosaki? Brr, Tōsh, I feel the chill.”

Tōshirō lazily rolled his eyes and Yuzu giggled. Homura felt like some kind of inside joke had just gone over her head.

Karin smirked. “Hey, Homura, you remember my buddy Tōshirō, right?”

“Hitsugaya,” Tōshirō corrected without much enthusiasm, as though knowing he was already defeated.

“Tōshirō,” Karin reaffirmed with a glare his way. “He's kind of a stick in the mud, but he's a decent guy. Great at soccer, at least.”

Face flat, Tōshirō droned, “Stop, you're making me blush.”

“It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hitsugaya,” Homura murmured with a bow.

Tōshirō nodded. “Likewise.” He turned to Karin and held up one hand to draw attention to Homura. “Do you see how easy that was, Karin?”

“Eh,” Karin replied with a careless shrug. Tōshirō sighed.

The four began walking away together. When they were an acceptable distance from other people, Yuzu asked, “How did your mission go, Tōshirō?”

Tōshirō's face twitched, probably at the informality. “It went well. I think I only need to split one patrol area into two. The officer there is handling the increased population all right but I'd feel better about it if he wasn't pushing himself quite so hard. He has done his duty quite well under duress so I'm going to give him leave when I split the patrol in two and let him choose which half he wants to serve in after he's rested.”

“Ooh, you're such a considerate commanding officer, Tōshirō,” Yuzu said sunnily.

Tōshirō blushed slightly and scratched a cheek with one finger. “Anyway, I finished sooner than I had expected so I have a few days left in the World of the Living. I figured I'd use it as a little vacation. Play some soccer or something.”

“Aww, yeeeahhhhh,” crowed Karin.

Witch hunting was abandoned for the day in favor of hours on a soccer field. Karin had scrounged up her soccer buddies (or minions, as Tōshirō muttered to Homura under his breath) to fill out some teams. Having been ill much of her life, it was the first time Homura had ever participated in a team sport. She could see why it was so popular now-- it was _fun_. Even if Karin's minions were distasteful little trolls. It would be so much more fun if Karin's minions were replaced by the Mitakihara magical girls. Homura's earlier thought about playing soccer with everyone when she finally won became more solid in her mind's eye.

It would happen one day. Absolutely. She had to have faith in that.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **********WITCH DATA**********  
> MARCIA  
> The Conductor Witch with a sassy nature. Her personal mission is to always put on a good show. Even battle is symphonic for her.  
> Minion: Cecelia, whose duty is to perform perfectly.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: *casually sets up body count tally board*  
> This /is/ a PMMM fic, after all. :D
> 
> I hope I managed to show Shino and Ryūnosuke as competent soldiers outclassed by their opponent rather than failtastic cannon fodder. *crosses fingers*
> 
> Witch Marcia is a fairly direct cameo of Nonon Jakuzure from Kill la Kill. If you haven't seen it, you can Google “ youtube Nonon Jakuzure Three-Star Goku Uniform: Symphony Regalia Grave." If that gets taken down like the original video I mentioned here, just search for something like "jakuzure vs matoi battle." Nonon actually has a bizarre battle form I didn't have to tweak much to make into a Witch.


	21. ZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

When the scientific expedition to Mitakihara failed to make a third status report in a row by noon on Thursday, Akon grew uneasy. If it was a communications malfunction, Rin was experienced enough to know to withdraw immediately. Akon tried remotely activating the emergency tracking beacons in the soul phones of all three mission participants, but was unable to connect to any of them. That was monumentally worrying. He tried sending Hell Butterflies. Nothing. None of the options were pretty; something had gone wrong.

After reporting to his captain, being raked across the coals for loss of equipment and manpower, and receiving an order to “clean up his own mess,” Akon chain-smoked three cigarettes to get up the nerve to face Captain Ukitake and confirm that yes, he _had_ apparently thrown the man's subordinates to the lions.

Akon was waiting in the Thirteenth Division offices when Captain Jushiro Ukitake and Lieutenant Rukia Kuchiki returned from mid-afternoon training of their subordinates. Ukitake took one look at Akon and his face went grim. He gestured for the scientist to follow him. The three ensconced themselves in the captain's office, Rukia standing next to her seated captain, Ukitake setting his elbows on the table and peering at Akon over his laced fingers.

“Report.”

Akon straightened. “Sir. The expedition led by Department Head Tsubokura has failed to complete three consecutive check-ins. Not only do they not answer when hailed, the tracking system cannot even locate their soul phones. Any of them. Attempts to reach them with Hell Butterflies similarly failed. The entire team is tentatively declared missing.”

Captain Ukitake frowned. “Your brief indicated that your only concern was potential low-level Hollows due to low spiritual density of the area, a task suited for unseated soldiers.” The _Was that a lie?_ went unspoken but understood.

Akon pursed his lips. “The mission was to verify the spiritual density readings, as it had been brought to our attention that there is a discrepancy between the population growth of the area and its spiritual density. Based on speculative calculations done since, it is possible that our recorded figures were erroneous.” Implying that the area could be more dangerous than thought.

Ukitake's eyes narrowed. “To what degree?”

Akon stared the captain in the eye. “Figures on record indicate Level Two density, but population statistics imply the density should be closer to Level Six. The initial readings Tsubokura reported corroborate Level Two, but there were higher unexplained anomalies in the area.” He was so screwed.

There was silence for an excruciating two minutes while the captain just stared at Akon until he wanted to crawl into a cave and hide with a pack of smokes. Akon was pretty sure the captain was deliberately drawing out the silence to make him squirm.

“You should have requested seated officers for this, Third Seat Akon,” Ukitake said evenly. “Possibly a full protective detail.”

People who could stay calm when infuriated were honestly terrifying.

Akon swallowed thickly. “In retrospect, I do not deny such, sir.”

Elbows still on the table, Ukitake tapped his thumbs together in thought. “I presume your captain has been informed and authority to resolve the issue has been delegated to you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your plans?”

Akon's already grim face became more so. “As the oversight was mine, I will personally investigate the movements of the missing party myself rather than risk other subordinates. I am here to formally notify you of the situation and offer to be subordinate to whatever search party you may deem appropriate. Sir.”

Ukitake arched one eyebrow, glanced at his lieutenant thoughtfully, then looked back to Akon. “As the danger of the situation is unknown--” Akon winced internally at the subtle jab-- “my lieutenant and myself shall accompany you. I officially request a detailed dossier on the original mission so as to better understand the situation.”

“Yes, sir,” Akon replied. He held out two file folders while bowing. “I took the liberty of procuring copies for yourself and your lieutenant.”

Ukitake glanced at Rukia and gestured toward the folders with his chin. Rukia silently retrieved the files, face professionally cold.

“How long do you need to gather supplies and delegate your duties?” asked the captain.

Akon blew out a heavy breath. “I delegated before I came here. An hour should do.”

Ukitake nodded. “We will meet you at the gate in an hour, then.”

Akon bowed deeply with a sharp, “Yes, sir!” and beat a rapid retreat.

So screwed.

§ x § x §

When the three girls returned to the Kurosaki Clinic for the evening, they were surprised to find Ichigo lounging on the couch with a textbook in his hands, a capped highlighter bouncing in one corner of his mouth as he read.

“Ichi-nii! You're home two days early?!” exclaimed Karin.

“Yuuuup,” Ichigo drawled, highlighter impeding his speech. “'Ad a test 'nstead o' lecture, no lab t'morruh, Thaturday's review, figured I'd just c'mere.” He stopped, removed the highlighter from his mouth, and carefully used it to mark a line of print, then used the pen as a bookmark as he looked up at the girls. “Hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all, Onii-chan!” Yuzu gushed.

“Great,” Ichigo said. He looked past his sisters. “Hey, Homura. You hanging in there?”

Homura nodded silently.

Ichigo smiled slightly then glanced between all three girls and looked smug. “I talked the old man into taking us all out to dinner. Requests?”

The sisters squealed. “Pho! Pho!”

Ichigo grinned. “How did I know you'd say that?” He looked at his sisters' friend. “You like pho, Homura?”

Homura tilted her head. “What is... fuh?”

The twins gasped and looked scandalized.

“Sacrilege!”

“Heresy!”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “It's Vietnamese food. Noodles, meat, broth. Pretty basic stuff. Some greens and sauces on the side. You game to try it?”

“Oh.” Homura blinked at the twins, who were looking at her eagerly. “Yes, that will be fine.”

The sisters cheered and did a double high-five.

Once Isshin had closed the clinic, the family set out for a pho place they liked with Homura trailing along uncertainly. The entire evening, from the time they closed the door of the house through the walks either way and the meal, was much wilder than Homura was used to for a trip to a restaurant. She was swept along in the family's loud banter and raucous laughter, even finding herself smiling a bit when all three Kurosaki siblings played that Ichigo was the adult in the party and Isshin good-naturedly played up his role as a petulant man-child. It was an evening full of giggles and melodramatic cries of, “We can't take you _anywhere!_ ” and trying new food. When they went home, everyone gathered around the dining table to share desserts and giggle through homework.

When Homura settled down for bed that night, she actually felt comfortable. Warm inside. The Kurosaki family wasn't _her_ family, of course, but they were the closest thing she had had to one in many years. Uncertain whether she could get as close to them in the next timeline, she carefully ran through her memories of the evening, savoring and trying to permanently inscribe them upon her mind. Such pleasant, comforting experiences had become a precious rarity in her bizarrely looping life and she'd be damned if anything tore the memories from her.

§ x § x §

“The team's final communication originated here on Wednesday at zero-eight-hundred hours,” Akon explained to the commanding officers of Thirteenth Division as they stood in the sky over a long-abandoned pier in Shinchi. He dodged around a screeching seagull. “Department Head Tsubokura reported that they had spent the night here after examining the site and finding no currently extant anomalies. He notified me that their plan for the day was to complete a westerly sweep through Shinchi, veering north into western Mitakihara.”

Captain Ukitake frowned at the seaside city, its buildings in silhouette against the sunset as the ocean darkened behind them. “Do you know how much of Shinchi they intended to cover?”

“No, sir. It was subject to whether the Department Head found anything worth investigating.”

Captain Ukitake hummed. “We will follow their proposed path, starting with a wide sweep of Shinchi. Lieutenant Kuchiki and I will use our senses looking for our subordinates while you use your equipment to look for anomalies. If we don't find anything by zero-two-hundred hours, we will set a camp and sleep in one-hour shifts, then resume our search, moving north into Mitakihara. Understood?”

Rukia and Akon both barked, “Yes, sir.”

Captain Ukitake stared into the twinkling early evening lights, face determined. If his subordinates were still out there, he would find them.

§ x § x §

Come Friday morning, Ichigo accompanied all the girls to the gate of the middle school. None of them really knew why until he and Homura separated from the sisters. Ichigo took Homura to a café, bought them both some fancy coffee, and led her outside again. They stood drinking for a moment, Homura keenly aware of Ichigo looking at her as though trying to figure something out. It was Ichigo who eventually broke the silence.

“Come on. Let's go somewhere more private. I want to talk to you about... what's going on.” He tilted his chin to urge her to follow him and turned and walked away.

Homura stood still for a moment, uneasy, then cautiously followed him. When she caught up to him, he pretended to have not noticed her hesitation. They walked in silence, eventually ending up by a lonely bench on a river embankment. Ichigo sat and once again remained neutral in the face of Homura's hesitation and choice to sit as far from him as possible. They sat quietly for a long while.

At length, Ichigo said, “I'm not really very good about being all nuanced when I talk. Subtle just isn't my thing. So if I get blunt or whatever, I don't mean anything negative by it. Call me out on it if I make you too uncomfortable with what I'm saying, okay? I won't be angry.”

Homura eyed him suspiciously. “...All right.”

“Okay.” Ichigo took a deep breath. He tried to choose his words carefully. “I've been texting the old man to see how you and the girls have been doing this week. He says you keep switching between opening up and withdrawing. While he doesn't understand what happened to you, he raised three kids and is good at reading people. He is very convinced that you feel guilty somehow.” Ichigo turned and looked directly at Homura. Seriously, he asked, “Do you blame yourself for what happened to your friends?”

Homura flinched and looked away before she could stop herself.

Ichigo sighed softly. That was all the answer he needed. “It's not your fault,” he said quietly.

“Yes, it is,” Homura said dully. While she lay the blame for the overall situation at the feet of the Incubator, the various bad outcomes of the timelines she had lived through were often due to her own interference or failure. Whether those events were erased from reality or not, the memories lived on in her head.

“What makes you think that?” Ichigo asked neutrally. He waited out her long silence, calmly watching the river and sipping his coffee as Homura fidgeted with her cup. His goal was to nudge her into talking without putting pressure on her. It was less direct than he usually addressed things, so he hoped he didn't suck at it.

Homura pursed her lips and looked at the ground. It was a subject she usually tried to avoid thinking about, much less talking about. It was difficult to express in words, especially when she had to be careful of keeping her story straight. Really, Homura thought she should refuse to speak of it. But she was finding that anyone with the surname Kurosaki had an inviting, non-judgmental, sympathetic charisma that drew her in. Despite her better judgment, she actually found herself wanting to talk to Ichigo.

Homura eventually settled on a vague, “They died because of my actions and inaction.”

“Oh?” Ichigo paused. After taking a drink, he casually asked, “Did you make the monsters kill them?”

Homura sat up straight and looked at him with wide eyes. “No!”

“So, what, you think they were in danger because of you?”

Homura frowned.

“Not quite, huh?” Ichigo turned his face skyward and thought. He reflected upon himself throughout the years. “Then do you feel like you weren't strong enough to help them and they would have lived if you were stronger, faster, smarter, whatever? That if you had just been the perfect fighter, you could have saved them?”

Homura cringed hard. Talk about an armor-piercing question.

“I see.” Ichigo sighed and sat back.

“It's true, though,” Homura blurted. “If I had done everything right, they wouldn't have been in danger, wouldn't have needed to fight--”

“But is that a realistic thing to expect of yourself?” Ichigo interrupted.

Homura whipped her head around to look at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Did my sisters tell you I fought in a shinigami war?”

Homura became more confused. “Yes? They said you beat the leader of... the bad guys?”

Ichigo hummed. “I did, but I didn't do it alone. I don't think I _could_ have pulled it off on my own. I had help every step of the way.”

Homura frowned. “But Karin and Yuzu said you're very powerful and a very good fighter.”

“I am, I guess,” Ichigo said while scratching the back of his neck. “But I got that strong with the support of my friends and allies. There were several times when various friends saved my ass when I was defeated. There were a lot of skills I was taught that I wouldn't have known if I was on my own. Power is useless if you don't know how to apply it properly. Even if you do know how to use your power perfectly, you may still fall short of your goals. They called me the strongest shinigami. But did you know I didn't strike the final blow on Aizen?”

Homura blinked. “You didn't?”

“No,” Ichigo said wryly. “But I was strong enough to weaken him to the point that Urahara was able to trap him.” He looked at Homura. “I was at the peak of my strength, in perfect harmony with my zanpakutō, matching my opponent blow for blow, and I still needed help from a friend. Now that I'm a bit older, I find that applies to most challenges in life. When you and your friends rely on each other, you all face challenges knowing someone has your back. That's priceless. When you try to fight on your own, it's much easier for something to sneak up on you. It may be an enemy, it may be exhaustion, but whatever it is, you set yourself up to be blindsided later.”

“But--” Homura faltered.

“There's only so much one person can do. You can't be everywhere at once. My point is this: You can't expect to be able to solve everyone else's problems-- to protect everyone else-- all by yourself. That was a hard lesson for me to learn myself. I still have trouble with it.You did the best you could with the knowledge and experience you have. It's not your fault that it wasn't enough. It won't bring those girls back, but from now on you have allies. Wherever you go from this point in your life, you can call on us to support you when you face a problem that you struggle to handle yourself. If this mess is anyone's fault, it's whatever is behind these monster attacks. Second place would probably be the shinigami-- I think they really dropped the ball, here.”

Homura stared at him for a long time. “But-- but the w-monsters. I was there. They died because I-- I--”

Ichigo hummed contemplatively. “Did you summon them?”

“What?”

“Did you summon the monsters yourself?”

Homura furrowed her brow. “No.”

“You have no control over whether dangerous spirits show up to prey on people and how other people react to them,” Ichigo reasoned.

“But--” Homura pursed her lips and looked down unhappily.

Ichigo considered his next words carefully. It was something he didn't like to talk about, but if it could help the girl.... “I do know how you feel, though,” he said quietly.

Homura looked up at him with something between disbelief and suspicion.

Ichigo took a deep breath and looked at the river. “For a long time, I blamed myself for my mother's death.”

Homura's eyes widened.

“I was nine. She was walking me home from karate practice in the rain. I saw a girl on the bridge by a broken rail and ran to her. I didn't know it was a spirit. I blacked out and woke up with my mom lying on me, dead. A few years ago I found out she died protecting me from a Hollow that used a lure that could look like a person.” He turned his empty cup around in his hands. “I also found out my elevated reiatsu attracts Hollows. Put one and one together... I thought it was obviously my fault.” He shrugged.

Homura's mouth opened and closed a few times before she settled on a wavering frown.

“But it wasn't.” Ichigo turned to look her straight in the eye. “My father tried to convince me of that for a long time, but I didn't get it. Not until I got older and learned more of how the spirit world works. I had no control over whether a Hollow showed up. I was untrained, unaware of my power, and young. If there was any failure, it was on the part of the shinigami, who had known of that Hollow for decades and failed at taking it out. I should have been able to rely on their protection. In their absence, there was no way a nine-year-old human could realistically expect to defend against a decades-old Hollow.”

“But-- but I know how to fight the monsters--” Homura objected.

“Sure. But it sounds like there are so many monsters up there that a single middle school girl can't reasonably be expected to defend against them all. Probably not even a _lot_ of middle school girls, working together or not. None of you should have had to fight. The failure isn't on your part, but on the force behind the attacks and the organization that should have found the problem and protected you.”

Homura stared. He sounded so damn... _reasonable_. Still, she looked at him doubtfully.

Ichigo sighed lightly. “I know I probably can't convince you of all that right away, but I think you'll get it someday. Until then, know that no one blames you and the girls and I will be there for you when you need us, yeah? The old man, too. Okay?”

Homura's cheeks pinked and she looked down again. “Okay.”

Ichigo grinned sympathetically and ruffled her hair like he did with his sisters. “I think it's almost time for the girls to get out. Let's pick them up and go to lunch, yeah?”

“Mm.”

§ x § x §

Mid-afternoon found Akon, Rukia, and Captain Ukitake finishing up a brief stop to eat. They were perched on an apartment building from which they could look three blocks down the street and see the media vans that were camped out in front of the Kaname residence.

“Vultures,” Rukia muttered.

Her captain gave a solemn hum of disapproving agreement, then sighed. “Let's get moving.”

The three shinigami put their supplies away and slung the small packs over their shoulders. They spread out so they were just in sight of one another and continued their search. They veered east through the suburbs until they encountered the train station, then followed the tracks northwest until they had doubled back to a park. From there, they crossed the tracks and combed through the more densely populated residential condo towers. They were considering sweeping east again when Akon suddenly drew to a halt, staring at the sensor in his hand. The leaders of Thirteenth Division were soon at his side.

“Akon?” asked Captain Ukitake.

Akon furrowed his brow and waved the sensor back and forth. “There's some kind of... weakness in the spiritual structure of the World of the Living nearby.” Distracted, he used shunpo to go in a few random directions with the sensor before settling on a direction to move. He stopped himself and looked up at the captain. “Your orders, sir?”

Captain Ukitake frowned. “Proceed with caution. Retreat if you encounter anything dangerous. Lieutenant, prepare for battle. We may flush something out.”

“Yes, sir!”

Rukia drew her blade, as did her captain. The three descended, bouncing along the maze-like corridors between residential towers until they emerged into a clearing that contained a park. All three looked around cautiously before Akon landed on the ground and cast about. His sensor led the three of them to a currently unoccupied concert shell.

“Whatever it is is up on the stage, I think,” Akon said quietly.

Captain Ukitake narrowed his eyes. “Something does feel... off.” He glanced at his lieutenant. The two of them quietly jumped up by the stage's floor lamps. Akon followed them warily when nothing ambushed them. He pointed to where the sensor detected the anomaly.

“I think I see it,” Rukia said quietly.

They all stared. There was a telltale ripple in the air at center stage. It looked like heat haze despite a lack of heat. At certain angles, a wave of pink light faintly wove through it in an indistinct pattern.

“What is this, Akon?” asked Captain Ukitake.

“I... I don't know, sir.”

“It feels like,” Rukia started, then hesitated. “Both like there's something there and nothing there. If that makes sense.”

Captain Ukitake hummed. “Well, fortune favors the bold,” he said. Then he stabbed at the anomaly with his zanpakutō.

The anomaly suddenly flared, a pink sigil snapping into focus. It was taller than the captain and looked like a translucent drawing of a winged skull over a wreath or laurel of four-petaled flowers. The three shinigami stared.

“Whyyy does that feel like a garganta?” Rukia asked slowly. “Only... not _really_ a garganta?”

The Thirteenth Division shinigami turned to Akon. Akon looked fascinated but confused and held his hands up in a gesture of being at a loss.

Captain Ukitake looked to the sigil once more. “It does feel like a doorway between worlds.” He tilted his head and thought. “Akon, if the investigation party went through a doorway like this and ended up in... Hueco Mundo or somewhere else, would that explain why you can't locate their phones?”

Akon rolled his shoulders, face tight with concentration. “Yes, actually. I only broadcast the emergency signal to the World of the Living. That wouldn't get any results if they weren't in that dimension.”

The captain frowned. “Can you tell anything about what is on the other side of this... doorway?”

Akon knelt and rummaged in his pack for some cord. “It's unconventional, but this should work.” He tied the cord to the main rod of his dowsing snail and used a silent Shō spell to propel it into the portal. After a tense few minutes, he hauled it out. The sensor was thankfully intact. Akon fiddled around with it. “Whatever is in there, it's crawling with Hollow-like reiatsu. Much stronger than the residual traces Tsubokura reported on Monday. It should be habitable, though.”

They stared at the anomaly for another minute or so while the captain thought. He nodded decisively. “Right. We're going to go in. Report our status to Twelfth before we go, Akon. Request that the Captain Commander be notified of everything should we fail to report within two hours. Upon my authority.”

“Yes, sir!”

§ x § x §

After lunch, Ichigo gave each of the girls some money and told them to get a treat or see a movie or something.

“Where are you going?” Yuzu asked.

Ichigo shrugged. “I have some things to check up on. Make sure Ms. Ikumi hasn't worked her new assistant to death, maybe stop by some friends. And I want to see if I need to light a fire under Sandal-Hat's ass to get him to figure things out faster. I don't think you really need to be there for that.”

All three girls squinted at him suspiciously.

“You mean you don't want us there,” Karin corrected him.

Ichigo shrugged. “What of it?”

Karin scowled. “Why shouldn't we be th--?!”

“Drop it, Karin,” Yuzu ordered. Karin's mouth snapped closed with a click and she looked at her sister in surprise. Yuzu gave her brother an even stare. “You're trying to protect Homura, aren't you? You don't want her upset by results or buried in questions.”

Ichigo sighed. “You are terrifyingly perceptive, Yuzu.”

Yuzu smiled sunnily. “You're just easy to read, Onii-chan!”

“D'aww, Ichi-nii's a big softie,” crowed Karin.

Ichigo barked out a laugh and mussed her hair. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go have fun.”

Ichigo stood and watched them walk away for a few minutes, noting Yuzu's gushing declaration that they should show Homura Naruki City (across the entire town from Urahara Shop) and how his sisters flocked on either side of Homura (like bodyguards).

Ichigo rolled his eyes fondly. Yeeeah, suuure, he was _totally_ the only softie protecting the girl. Uh-huh. Riiiight.

§ x § x §

The three shinigami cautiously stepped through the portal. While they had thought themselves prepared for anything and half expected to end up in Hueco Mundo, they were surprised by the bizarre world they found themselves in. They were at one end of a steep stadium whose seats were filled with stuffed animals. The wall and seats behind them looked like they had been recently broken and put back together again, cracks studded with pieces of duct tape like stitches. The stuffed animals in the reconstructed portion of the arena each had several bandages on them. Akon spotted the heavily-damaged reishi/reiatsu analysis sensor, but was wary of approaching it. Rukia nudged her captain after looking a distance away from the sensor. She pointed to a stretch of repaired wall with dried streaks of blood, a large patch of charred grass, and the bloodied remains of Shino's distinctive lily-pad-like hair ornament. The survey party had most likely met a violent end.

On their other side was a wide field filled with a marching band made of dolls. The grass between the shinigami and the band was pockmarked; the Thirteenth Division officers narrowed their eyes, recognizing the remnants of a tactic they taught their subordinates for defense against multiple threats. So the band was dangerous rather than decorative. At the far end of the stadium, a gigantic human skeleton in a pink band conductor's uniform tapped a baton, directing the rattling sound of snare drums keeping time from somewhere within the band.

“Akon?” Captain Ukitake asked tensely.

“Nooo clue,” Akon replied, looking around in confused fascination.

“Sir?” said Rukia. When her captain looked at her expectantly, she continued. “This feels like a combination of Hueco Mundo and that weird... dollhouse-world I was pulled into by the Fullbringer Riruka Dokugamine.”

Captain Ukitake raised an eyebrow in interest and looked to Akon.

Akon shrugged. “We didn't receive sufficient data to do any kind of evaluation or comparison of the abilities of the Fullbringers.”

_Fweeeeeeee fweet! Fweet! Fweet! Fweet!_

A whistle and booming drums drew the shinigami's attention to the band, which began to march toward them. The Thirteenth Division officers immediately performed the same tactic their subordinates had, but with much greater effect. Rukia cast Shō in a wide arc in front of them. Captain Ukitake then curtly spoke the shortened incantation for Hyapporankan and impaled the first dozen rows of dolls with lances of blue light, pinning them to the ground.

Determined to wipe out the small army before him, the captain then snapped, “Fifty-Seventh Way of Destruction: Daichi Tenyō!”

Three quarters of the field shattered and levitated, throwing the marching dolls into disarray. Captain Ukitake used the spell to launch the broken debris at the big skeleton at the end of the field. The skeleton shrieked, streams of glowing pink musical staves rapidly flowing from its mouth to weave a barrier in front of it. The pieces of earth and the dolls caught up with them broke against the shield. Still shrieking, the skeleton stood and made a sharp upward gesture with its conductor's baton. Discarded instruments from the field levitated and flowed toward the skeleton on more pink musical staves which then bound them to the skeleton. The mass glowed with a bright pink light that formed a heart before breaking into sparkles, leaving a smaller skeleton dressed in red perched in a glowing crevice in the bizarre, heart-shaped object's center. It hovered on pink thrusters and broadcast the sound of an orchestra warming up at a gradually increasing volume from a bank of giant speakers.

Akon, standing guard over Rin's abandoned sensor, blurted, “Oh, shit, I think that's an LRAD!”

“An el-what?!” shouted Rukia.

“SOUND CANN--!”

Akon's answer was completely drowned out by a blast of music so loud it further shattered the ground and ruptured their eardrums before they could react. The three shinigami grimaced and blocked their faces with their arms but managed to keep their footing by automatically bracing themselves with their reiatsu, which was much stronger than the first team's. Each of the three managed to get an Enkōsen kidō shield up moments later to decrease the onslaught, but the damage had already been done. They stood resolute while the glowing pink musical notes, inert dolls, and field debris blew into and around their shields. The blast ceased after what felt like an eternity.

Captain Ukitake tried to speak to his team, but saw their ears just as bloody as his own probably were. He pantomimed to Akon to protect the sensor. Akon looked confused, then brightened in realization and nodded. Next, the captain glanced at his lieutenant and made standard hand signal orders to her, watching for her reply. She nodded, then glanced over his shoulder with wide eyes. Captain Ukitake looked back at the massive sound cannon. A turret full of giant recorders had unfurled from its base and begun to spin. He had no idea what they were for until the recorders all burst forward, propelled by pink, rocket-like energy.

Though he could no longer hear his own voice, Captain Ukitake roared, “Eighty-First Way of Binding: Dankū!” The huge pane of translucent reishi materialized just in time to block the missiles, which exploded against it rather spectacularly. The captain then met his lieutenant's eyes with a hard glare, nodding at her to begin their attack. It was time to end this.

The two officers leapt in opposite directions and rushed along the top of the wall between the stands and the field, each rapidly muttering a different high-level kidō incantation. The strange creature hesitated, unsure of which shinigami it should target. When the two officers were not quite parallel with the monster, they shouted the final words of their spells.

“Seventy-Third Way of Destruction: Sōren Sōkatsui!” Rukia screamed. A double bolt of blue light blasted from her hands.

“Eighty-Eighth Way of Destruction: Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō!” Captain Ukitake bellowed. A massive electrical construct burst toward the monster.

Hit from two sides by an overwhelming amount of power, the monster screeched and blew to smithereens. Its pieces disintegrated into pink sparkles in mid-flight. Moments later, the nightmare world wavered around them and began to fade. Akon turned and dove toward Rin's sensor, wrapping his arms around it as the pocket dimension collapsed completely.

The three shinigami found themselves back on the stage of the concert shell in the park, spread out in a wide triangle. As they panted, a silver spindle containing a black jewel floated down to the ground between them. All three stared at it, then each other.

Captain Ukitake and Rukia didn't need their ears to understand Akon's enthusiastically mouthed _What the hell?!_ and heartily agree.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Let me know what you think!


	22. EINUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for your reviews. I hope the big Witch fight lives up to the hype. ;)

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**EINUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Once out of view of Ichigo, the three girls detoured toward the railroad tracks yet again. This time they proceeded west, crossing into Naruki City. They were seven city blocks in when their Soul Gems began to glow faintly. They followed the tracks another two blocks until they were facing an overpass where the road went above the tracks. Wary of the tunnel, the girls veered around it to see if the Witch was further on. Unfortunately, their Gems led them back to the overpass.

Karin huffed, let her Gem turn back into a ring, and put her hands on her hips. “I swear to God, if we defeat this Witch and immediately get hit by a train I will be _pissed_ ,” she grumbled.

Yuzu sighed. She threw her hands over her head and did a warm-up stretch. “We'll have to be careful when the labyrinth collapses.”

Homura coolly said, “Let's get this over with,” and entered the tunnel, Soul Gem brandished before her. The other two girls nodded and followed her. Halfway through the tunnel, the amethyst flared and the orange pumpkin clock sigil appeared before them. When the trio entered the portal, they found yet another surreal subway station. This one, however, had sprawling branches of blooming jacaranda growing along the ceiling in addition to the industrial wreckage and clocks. Dozens of painted lady butterflies darted about the lavender flowers. There was also a heavy presence in the air.

“Finally!” Karin said. “Only took _forever_ to find her.” She held up her Soul Gem. “Let's do this.”

All three magical girls transformed and summoned weapons. After a minute of consideration, they cautiously set out along one of the tunnels.

“Homura,” said Yuzu, “The last time we found this Witch, we had to go through several areas like the one with the scarecrow-thing. We managed to get to the center of the labyrinth, but there were a lot more Familiars. The Witch ran away when we were too busy fighting them.”

“Neither of us has much of an area-of-effect attack,” Karin griped.

Homura hummed. “I have some ideas.”

“Oh?” Karin said archly. “You have some tricks up your sleeve? Or in your shield, I guess.”

“Grenades, bombs, assault rifles, and such,” Homura confirmed calmly.

Karin gaped, then laughed. “You're a walking arsenal, huh?”

“I suppose.”

Karin slapped a hand on Homura's shoulder. “Glad you're on _our_ side, then!”

They soon found themselves in a subway station like the ones they had found before. It was a bit different, though; the omnipresent jacarandas decorated the ceiling and there were a dozen turnip-headed conductor scarecrows spinning around on the platform in an intricate pattern.

Yuzu sighed. “Even more than last time. We'll get worn out before we get to the Witch again.”

Homura made a thoughtful noise and put her handgun back in her shield. “I'll take out as many as I can with a gun, then you two run in and pick off the leftovers.”

Karin looked at her skeptically. “How are you going to take out a bunch of Familiars by shooting one at a time? They'll swarm-- holy _shit_ , is that a _machine gun?!_ ”

Homura held up the FN Minimi and checked its ammunition box as the sisters stared with wide eyes. “Yes.” She lifted the gun to firing position. “Are you ready?”

Karin sputtered, then collected herself and made a still-incredulous sweeping gesture at the Familiars. “After you, Lady Shoots-a-lot.”

Homura's lips quirked up, then she went serious again, stepped forward, and methodically sprayed bullets at the turnip heads. Several exploded, leaving only four. She lowered the gun so its muzzle faced the ground. “Go.”

The two sisters leapt forward. Karin sliced Familiars in half with her katana while Yuzu lashed out with her whip, turned sideways as she jerked the Familiars to her, and bashed in their heads with the butt of her whip by slamming it backwards as each creature flew toward her.

As the last Familiars disintegrated, Karin gleefully crowed, “ _Sweet_.”

The girls continued through the subway tunnels, using the same strategy every time they came to a subway station. As the **y** progressed, each station housed mor **e** Familiars and butterflies than the last and the scent of jacaranda flo **w** ers became muc **h** more cl **o** ying. Aft **e** r more than half a **n** hour, **t** hey cam **e** out of a cu **r** ve in the tunnel and saw that the next arc **h** way was larger and far more ornate, ind **e** cipherable **r** unes etch **e** d in the bricks.

“This is it,” said Yuzu.

The trio carefully approached the tunnel exit and peeked around its sides. Before them was an enormous brick chamber. Instead of a subway platform, the cavern housed a sprawling train switch yard with tracks that snaked around and into adjacent tunnels. There was more variance in the size of the clocks on the walls, ranging from pocket watches to cuckoo clocks to ornate grandfather clocks. Around the perimeter of the cavern were the trunks of jacaranda trees which formed a fragrant lavender canopy over the room and branched out into the tunnels. Crystalline high-heeled shoes filled with burning embers dangled from the branches and glowed like lanterns. A huge bell was suspended from the very center of the ceiling. Beneath the bell, all the various train rails converged into a train turntable. The areas between the tracks were studded with randomly-placed pumpkins connected by vines made of wire. Upon the center point of the entire room sat the Witch.

The Witch's base was a huge jack-o'-lantern that took up most of the space on the turntable. An over-sized vintage plaster mannequin was affixed to the top of the jack-o'-lantern from the hips up, lifeless eyes staring va **c** antly. A gauz **y** black ballroom skirt flowed dow **n** from its  wais **t** and encircled t **h** e pumpk **i** n b **a** se except for the glowing jack-o'-lantern face; jacaranda flowers decorated its waist. It wore a black bodice and its stiff arms were covered with black elbow gloves. Atop its head sat the cut-out lid of the jack-o'-lantern, its thick stem making it resemble a top hat. A mourning veil trailed down from the pumpkin-hat. The entire ensemble was completed with an upside-down pair of painted lady butterfly wings at the mannequin's back. The Witch was not facing the girls directly, but was turned about fifteen degrees away from them.

The Witch was surrounded by a different sort of Familiar than the turnip-headed fairy conductors. Clockwork **c** reatures made of bare gears and metal w **h** irled around the floor of the ch **a** mber in an int **r** icate wa **l** tz. The vaguely **-** female Familiars bor **e** short p **s** eudo **-** skirts mad **e** of jacara **n** da branch **e** s trailing flowers; their partners wore pumpkin-lid top hats on their heads. Their dancing carried them around the rail yard pumpkin patch without tripping.

“Okay,” Karin began, matter-of-fact. “We know the dancing thingies can make their hands turn into bayonet-things to slice with. They keep spinning so the room may as well be a gauntlet. We didn't manage to get to the actual Witch last time so we have no clue what it-- she-- does.”

Homura hummed in consideration as she surveyed the cavern. This Witch was living up to her expectations of trickiness and complexity. Technically speaking, she could freeze time and walk right up to the Witch and kill it. That wouldn't give her any intel on how well the twins fought, though. After all, Walpurgisnacht was formidable and had its own army of Familiars. She settled on reducing the number of combatants, observing the sisters' performance in mêlée combat, then seeing how well she could work with them to take out the Witch.

Homura ducked back into the tunnel, followed by the sisters. Karin and Yuzu watched curiously as she set down the machine gun and rummaged in her shield. Homura pulled out her hand and made a neat stack of ammunition belts for the machine gun. That done, she dipped into her hoard and pushed a frag grenade at Karin. “Here.”

Karin grabbed it automatically, then gaped at it with undisguised dread. “UH.”

Yuzu stared at the grenade in her sister's hands, then squeaked when Homura pressed one into her hands as well. “W-w-what are we supposed to do with these?”

Homura blandly arched an eyebrow, palming a third grenade for herself. “Attack the Familiars, of course.”

Karin was stuck on, “UHHH.”

“But-- but we've never even _seen_ these in real life!” Yuzu squealed in dismay.

“It's quite simple,” Homura began. She then gave them a quick lesson on their use. “Now, we will enter the chamber; one of you will go left, one of you will go right, and I'll take the center. We enhance our speed with magic, go as far from the entrance as we can in one jump, throw the grenades, then jump back to the doorway for cover before the grenades detonate. Then we can form a united front to defend this doorway. We can save some energy and let the Familiars come to us. They'll be easier to hit if they group up. I'll use the machine gun to take out more, then we can go for mêlée combat.”

“Good plan,” Karin said. “We just can't lose track of which door to run back to.” She had a point-- there were dozens of identical arches around the cavern.

Homura hummed, absently shoved her grenade at Yuzu (who squealed), reached into her shield, and pulled out two little red spheres with fuses.

“What are those, cherry bombs?” asked Karin.

“No, they're small colored smoke bombs you can get from firework stands. I got a lot to use as signals with my friends.” It seemed so long ago, now. Homura carefully stepped outside the arch, set a smoke bomb about fifteen feet away on either side of the door, lit them, and retreated.

As Homura retrieved her grenade from Yuzu, Karin asked, “Why so far from the door?”

Homura smoothed her hair behind her ears and calmly explained, “If we have them any closer, we'll be blinded or choked by the smoke. Having two lets you aim between the two points if you get confused out in battle.”

“Oh!” Yuzu said with understanding. “Like when you're swimming at the beach and they put up flags so you know where the edges of bad currents are so you stay in the safe water!”

Homura had never actually been swimming in the ocean, so she just shrugged and agreed. It made Yuzu more confident to know something and sounded reasonable enough. “Are you ready?”

The Kurosaki sisters fiddled around with their grenades, obviously reciting Homura's lesson in their heads. Karin took a deep breath and looked up with a grimly determined grin. “Let's do it!” Yuzu nodded agreement, face drawn in concentration.

“On three,” said Homura. Each of the girls got her grenade ready. “One... two... three!”

The girls launched themselves from the door with the magical girl version of flash step. They landed, pulled the pins and lobbed the grenades, then immediately spun and dashed for their door. The concussive blast of three nearly simultaneous explosions made them stumble on entry. Homura kept moving through it, picking up and readying her machine gun as the sisters yelped. All three girls surveyed the cavern as the smoke from their grenades dispersed.

“ _Awesome_ ,” Karin marveled while her sister's eyes went wide in disbelief.

There were three large craters spread around the half of the chamber directly in front of them. Pumpkin fragments and twisted metal remnants of Familiars were strewn all about. About a third of the Familiars had been destroyed. Others staggered around, damaged. The intricate waltz they had been engaged in fell apart into spinning chaos. The sisters grinned a bit smugly as they readied their weapons for whatever the retaliation would be.

_GONG!_

The huge bell at the apex of the chamber pealed out once, deafeningly loud. A series of clunking, squeaking, and grinding sounds heralded the slow, clockwise rotation of the central turntable. The Witch was turning to face the girls.

“Uh... this seems... _bad_ ,” Karin commented.

“It didn't do that last time,” Yuzu said uncertainly.

Homura scowled as the turntable jolted to a stop with a loud clunk. The Witch's mannequin arms rose as stiffly as a doll's. The remaining Familiars straightened, transformed their hands into bayonets en masse, and whirled toward the girls.

“I'm going with _yeah, pretty damn bad_ ,” Karin said urgently.

Homura gave a quiet _hmph_ and brought the gun to bear. Karin didn't have a chance to sass at her before their tunnel was filled with the reverberating sound and flashing of rapid gunfire as Homura mowed down the charging Familiars. The twins flinched and clapped their hands to their ears.

When Homura paused to reload while Yuzu threw up a glowing shield made of three interlocked magic circles, Karin snarled, “Dammit, Homura, give a girl some _warning_ before you shoot a _fucking machine gun_ like right next to her ears!”

Homura snapped the ammo tray closed. “My apologies,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

“Suuure, you're s--”

Karin was cut off by another volley of gunfire. She rolled her eyes powerfully and watched the Familiars falling all over each other in their mindless determination to attack in the face of automatic gunfire.

_GONG!_

Karin scowled up at the big bell. “The hell?” Yuzu frowned, too.

As Homura paused to reload again, Karin twisted her fingers in her ears and looked behind them. “Are my ears fucked up or do I hear someth-- _OH, SHIT!_ ”

Karin and Yuzu turned and desperately fought a gaggle of Familiars which must have gone into other tunnels to approach them from behind. Homura gripped her gun with her left hand and desperately reached into her shield for a grenade. “Behind me!” she screamed. To their credit, the sisters obeyed her immediately. Yuzu was even observant enough to see what she was doing and throw up one of her shields to seal the doorway as soon as Homura's grenade passed her. It focused the resultant explosion entirely against the horde in the tunnel.

_GONG!_

That was all well and good, but the girls had now been forced out into the open. Plans were discarded as the three formed a circle and focused on taking out as many Familiars as they could. When Homura's Minimi next ran out of ammo, she dropped it, pulled out a Beretta and wielded it left-handed with support from her right for close quarters shooting, then started pulling out and throwing grenades into the surrounding mob with her right hand whenever she reloaded the handgun. Karin attacked the Familiars that approached her with surgical precision, lopping off heads and bladed arms with every swing. Yuzu had a more difficult time in battle, but developed a pattern of snagging enemies' bladed hands together with her whip then hauling them in close so she could kick their heads off their fragile necks with her high-heeled shoes.

_GONG!_

The girls weren't sure how long the mêlée lasted. It certainly felt like forever. Homura blew through more ordinance and ammo than she ever used against anything save for Walpurgisnacht. A ring of debris from destroyed Familiars gradually piled up around the girls. Instead of getting tall enough to protect them, it simply gave the remaining Familiars a height advantage so they could attack from slightly higher up-- where the girls would have more trouble defending.

“We need to move!” shouted Homura.

“Uh, yeah, duh!” Karin replied. “Plans?”

_GONG!_

“Let's make a run for the wall,” panted Yuzu. “We can have the wall at our backs.”

“Let's choose one the creeptastic Witch isn't facing,” Karin added. “Dunno what fresh hell she's gonna unleash.”

Homura surveyed the wider area next time she threw a grenade, analyzing everything. “Let's go to the wall ninety degrees to the Witch's left.”

“You got a reason for that?” asked Karin as she lopped off yet another clockwork head.

After emptying another magazine into the faces of the attacking automatons, Homura said, “A guess. The Witch spun clockwise and has a clock theme. If it can only turn clockwise, we'll have more time to react to it moving.”

Yuzu made a sound of understanding and Karin laughed. “We got a smartypants over here, Yuz!”

“I'm not complaining!” Yuzu cheered as she kicked in another face.

“I could be wrong,” Homura hedged after her latest grenade exploded.

“Only one way to find out!” shouted Karin. “Ready?”

Homura and Yuzu sharply answered, “Yes!”

“On three! One... two... three!”

The magical girls jumped to the top of the pile of clockwark parts, flared their magic around them in a brief aura to push back their attackers, and flash-stepped to the wall in question. They pressed their backs to the wall and took the opportunity to catch their breath while the minions whirled in directionless confusion at their disappearance.

_GONG!_

The automatons paused, straightened, then spun toward the girls' new position.

“Faaaaan _tastic!_ ” Karin drawled. She rolled her shoulders and got in a ready position. “Round three. Bring it!”

It was easier to fight with their backs to the wall-- no worry that the fighter behind them could miss something and let them get hit in the back. Homura stood between and slightly farther out than the sisters then pulled out a second FN Minimi. She sprayed a deluge of bullets at the Familiars with the pre-loaded gun, then stepped back and let the sisters pick off enemies while she fed the machine gun another ammunition belt. The twins would step back when Homura gave a sharp shout to announce she was ready to shoot again.

_GONG!_

Once again, a deep series of clunking and grinding drew their attention to the Witch. Its turntable had begun to rotate again.

“Clockwise,” Karin said with amusement. “Well, I'll be damned.”

“You're great at this, Homura!” Yuzu gushed.

“You would have figured it out yourselves,” Homura demurred.

Karin snorted with self-deprecation. “Maybe if we miraculously wiped out a ton of Familiars before we could get worn out. And I do mean _miraculously_. I've never seen a Witch with this many Familiars before. Well, _dangerous_ Familiars.”

In the next few minutes of harried but comfortable teamwork, Homura fleetingly wondered what fate befell the sisters in all the previous timelines. Considering the state of their Soul Gems when she met them and how this particular Witch seemed to finally be something too big for them to handle by themselves....

That train of thought was shoved to the back of her mind.

_GONG!_

“Oh my God, will you _SHUT UP_ with the bell!” Karin snarled at the labyrinth in general.

When they had whittled down the Familiars to about three dozen, Homura said, “Ideas for attacking the Witch?” Satisfied with the sisters' teamwork and performance against Familiars since Walpurgisnacht's tended to space themselves out more than the ones in this labyrinth, she wanted to see how well they did against a Witch.

“If I can get up top of that big pumpkin I could slice the doll part either down the middle or across the waist,” Karin offered after a minute of glancing at the Witch between enemies.

“We need to be careful,” Yuzu said. “We don't know what kind of attacks it uses-- or even if the doll part is a decoy.”

“Right,” Karin said tersely. After another minute of thought, she offered, “How about I try to get up and attack the doll, and you and Homura cover me? Yuzu, be ready to shield, and Homura, be ready to shoot at any surprises. Sound good?”

Homura and Yuzu agreed.

_GONG!_

It only took a few more minutes to wipe out the last of the Familiars. The girls took a minute to catch their breath while Homura switched her machine gun for a semiautomatic assault rifle. They watched the Witch's steady progress as the turntable rotated. With some nodding and pointing to coordinate their attack, Yuzu stayed where she was while Karin and Homura ran to their left. Homura stopped when she was directly to the Witch's right side; Karin kept running until she was directly behind the Witch. Once in place, she got into a ready position and nodded at Homura. Homura looked to Yuzu; she also nodded her readiness. Homura pointed her rifle toward a tunnel off to one side so her signal shot wouldn't rebound and hit anyone, then fired the gun like a starting pistol. Karin took off at a sprint and leapt up toward the pumpkin.

_GONG!_

The bell clanged again when Karin's foot made contact with the jack-o'-lantern's upper curve. By the time she had taken a second step and swung her katana, the mannequin's arms had dropped ninety degrees to be parallel to the ground-- one in front and one in back-- and long serrated blades popped out all along the length of its arms. Then the entire mannequin rapidly spun clockwise at the waist even as the turntable remained slow.

Yuzu's three-ring shield snapped into existence to Karin's right even as she kicked herself into a vertical jump in an attempt to avoid the blades. The leading edge of the front blade struck the shield and jarred to a halt, snapping the arm off in the process. Karin turned the falling velocity of her jump into a downward attack toward the mannequin's head, but the jacaranda branches around its waist shot up and extended in a counter-strike. Eyes wide, Karin slashed at the branches. While she did cut some, others grabbed her ankle and threw her away so hard that the brick wall of the cavern cracked around her impact.

_GONG!_

Homura aimed for the mannequin's head and shot several bursts. The plaster cracked, but the jack-o'-lantern lid top hat slid to the side of the head that faced Homura and acted as a shield. The turntable continued to rotate. Homura scowled.

“Karin!” Yuzu shouted.

Karin staggered to her feet, having flared her magic to soften the blow then heal some of the damage. “I'm good, I'm good!” she wheezed.

The turntable and jack-o'-lantern ground to a loud halt with a sound like the tumblers of an old lock clunking into place.

_GONG!_

The Witch's mouth dropped open like a marionette's and uttered a train-whistle-like wail. Hundreds of glowing glass shoe lanterns exploded simultaneously, showering shards of glass and blazing embers in every direction and plunging the cavern into darkness lit only by the face of the jack-o'-lantern and the multitude of butterflies which began to glow orange as they wafted among the jacarandas at the ceiling. The girls all held their arms to their faces to protect their eyes from the unusual shrapnel. The shards hadn't all hit the ground yet when the cavern was filled with echoing sounds of cracking, booming, and tearing. When they opened their eyes, the girls found that the train tracks that crisscrossed the switch yard were being ripped up from the ground, curling and flailing around the Witch like tentacles.

“Now would be a good time for a Plan B!” Karin screamed urgently.

Homura frowned hard as the rails curved around the Witch in an intricate, spiraling cage. This was one of the most complex Witches she had ever fought. _I may actually_ need _to stop time and take it out myself_ , she thought.

The Witch raised its remaining arm. The bell at the apex of the chamber pealed over and over as the mannequin dropped its arm like a guillotine. The train tracks around it made the sound of metal against metal and shot railroad spikes in every direction with the speed of a machine gun. The _ping!_ of shattering glass reached Homura's ears just before she stopped time. Pain radiated from the multiple wounds spikes had left behind where she had been shot, only two still lodged in her body. Okay, she could manage that.

Homura looked around and discovered that though her wounds were not grievous, she had still reacted an instant too late: The pieces of Yuzu's Soul Gem were frozen in the midst of supernova, her eyes already empty.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .  
>  CYNTHIA, the Pumpkin Witch. It is in her nature to be tardy. She always leaves things until the last minute and would probably be late to her own funeral.
> 
> Minion: Jakob, whose duty is to keep everything on schedule.
> 
> Minion: Charles & Charlene, whose duty is to dance.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Ruh-roh. :D
> 
> Witch Cynthia's concept is a combination of Cinderella and the Vocaloid song/video “Mrs. Pumpkin's Comical Dream.” (Which is morbid and in no way comedic.) Plus a few other things punning on the name Cynthia. When I first saw InuCurry's art for Witches in PMMM, I immediately thought of the art in that video. As a bonus, the main character in that music video is what Cynthia's magical girl form would look like.


	23. ZWEIUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *sings* I am a terrible perrrrr-sonnnnn~!

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x § 

**ZWEIUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Homura stared at the yellow constellation that had been Yuzu's soul in numb disbelief. Witnessing the destruction of a Soul Gem was something that would never become less horrifying with repetition.

She should have stopped time and bombed the Witch out of existence from the start. Then Yuzu wouldn't be... like this. It didn't matter that Yuzu's death would be undone when she next folded time back on itself-- that didn't make the here and now any easier to deal with. Homura could have prevented this, but hadn't. She had been too interested in how useful the girls would be in the next timeline. Guilt ate at her and made her feel monstrous.

After a few minutes of staring blankly at Yuzu, Homura turned to Karin. The dark-haired girl had managed to get her arms up, crossed over her face to protect it. Rail spikes and wounds studded her body-- three in her arms, one in her ribs, another straight through the area just above her left hip. Generally, injuries a magical girl should have little trouble recovering from. Homura glanced back to the other side of the room. Yuzu's death was going to be the most critical wound and there was nothing she could do about it.

Homura blinked owlishly and looked down at herself. She removed the spikes from her left shoulder and right thigh in absolute detachment, absently holding them out to one side and letting them go to hang in place as she scrubbed at blood that had trickled into her eye from a head wound. Homura looked around at the many rail spikes frozen in midair between her and Karin as she let her magic heal the worst of her wounds. After a long minute of thought, she reached into her shield and retrieved the old golf club that had been her first weapon. She slowly made her way to Karin by tapping individual spikes to allow them to continue on their trajectory-- physical contact with Homura, even indirect, negated the time-freezing spell. It took forever to get to Karin, but it was an acceptable if inadequate penance. She made the spikes that had already passed Karin finish their journeys into the ground and wall, then stared at Karin as she decided what to do.

Homura finally pursed her lips and grabbed Karin's shoulders. Karin's scream continued from where it had left off until Homura tugged her backwards.

“W-what? What?” Karin blinked around at all the rail spikes paused in mid-flight. “What? H-Homura?”

Homura physically forced Karin to turn and face her and the wall. “My power is actually to stop time,” she murmured as she plucked spikes from Karin's arms and made sure to maintain physical contact.

“That's a thing?” Karin asked in a daze. She stared at her arm wounds as her magic worked to heal them.

“Yes. And time will freeze for you again if you stop touching me.”

“Oh. Okay.” Karin was pretty sure having a girl pry a railroad spike out of her hip should hurt a lot more than her magic was letting her feel. She blinked. “Oh. Did you help Yuzu already?”

Homura paused, face bent and obscured by her hair. After a worrying silence, Homura heavily said, “There's nothing I can do for Yuzu.” It sounded like an admission of guilt.

“What's that mean?!” Karin asked urgently. She wheeled about and sought out her sister.

Even from a distance, it was obvious that Yuzu's Soul Gem had exploded. A railroad spike hovered perhaps a centimeter from the now-empty brooch at her throat. Homura knew that the pretty battle costume would evaporate as soon as she let time resume.

The raw sound of anguish that left Karin's throat would haunt Homura's nightmares.

Karin tried to dash to her sister, but froze as soon as she moved away from Homura. Homura chewed her lip, slid in front of Karin, and caught her after tapping her to let time resume for her. Karin fought to get past her, screaming her sister's name. Homura hugged her hard, at a loss. “Shh. Shh. I'll take you to her. I'll take you. Hold my hand.”

Karin keened but took her hand and allowed herself to be led like a child. Homura bent to retrieve her golf club and navigated the cavern as she guided Karin behind her. When they finally neared Yuzu, Homura again made the spikes around and behind her finish their trajectories. Karin fell to her knees next to her sister, still holding Homura's hand. They both stared at Yuzu, whose final expression was one of surprise. Karin gingerly reached out and grabbed the yellow frills that waterfalled out from the tails of her sister's costume.

Time immediately resumed for Yuzu. The spikes that had been going through her waist and knee rocketed out behind her and froze as soon as they cleared Yuzu's body. The frills turned into light and disintegrated in Karin's hand as Yuzu began to fall backwards. Yuzu's body froze again, so Karin crawled closer and wrapped her free arm around her sister's waist. Yuzu's body finally fell against Karin, who took one look at her sister's dead eyes and wailed.

Homura let go of Karin, unable to bear the sound. She simply stood in place for awhile, covering her face with her hands and breathing.

This was her fault. She should have been faster. Should have been more aggressive with the Witch. Should've should've should've. Always should've.

Homura forced herself into blankness and turned to face the Witch. Her face slowly shifted into cold fury. She backtracked through the path she had made, then used the golf club to navigate to the turntable. After a long, calculating glare, she started retrieving things from her storage.

Pipe bombs and glass bottles filled with kerosene lobbed into all the jack-o'-lantern openings. Grenades thrown up at the mannequin. Multiple RPGs fired up at the distant ceiling because seriously, fuck that bell. Three ammunition belts worth of bullets from her machine gun aimed at the mannequin's head. Pipe bombs all around the base of the giant pumpkin and its cage of rails.

Homura was well aware that she was engaging in overkill, but she didn't give a damn. The thing had killed Yuzu. Kind Yuzu with a loving soul like Madoka's. Homura wanted to blow up _everything_.

Homura stalked back to Karin and positioned herself between the girl and the oncoming railroad spikes, then lifted her shield to a defensive stance, flared her magic around her in a violet flash, and allowed time to resume. Karin's wailing was punctuated by the staccato clangs of spikes ricocheting off Homura's shield before it was completely drowned out by a cascading series of explosions. The destruction of the jack-o'-lantern was grimly satisfying, but the labyrinth didn't waver until the RPGs reached their target and shattered the bell with a deafening clang.

Turned out Yuzu was right to worry about a decoy: The actual Witch-- or perhaps the Witch's core?-- was the bell. Of course it was. Homura could have walked into the chamber, fired RPGs at the bell, and been done with the whole mess without even fighting the Familiars. Bitter anger made her blood boil, her pulse rushing in her ears. Of course. Of _course_. Yuzu was dead for nothing. Just another failure to enter in her ledger of screw-ups.

Homura shielded Karin until the labyrinth completely collapsed, then slowly lowered her shield when she found herself back in the train underpass. She dispassionately caught the Grief Seed as it drifted down from above.

Karin had devolved into quieter keening, rocking her dead twin's body. Homura faltered, then approached her and gently lay a hand on her shoulder. She didn't bother trying to say anything-- Homura knew better than anyone that there were no words that could relieve her grief. They remained like that for several minutes as Karin slowly came to her senses. Homura was startled when the girl sat up, scrubbed her face, and looked determined. She shuffled around, slid her arms around her sister, and lifted her into a fireman's carry as she stood and looked both angry and desperate.

“What are you doing?” Homura asked hesitantly.

Karin shifted Yuzu's weight on her shoulders. “I'm taking Yuzu to Urahara. He'll help her.”

“Karin... Karin, she's gone,” Homura said quietly. “Her Soul Gem--”

“Urahara's smart and knows soul stuff. He'll bring her back.”

There was something wild in her eyes that worried Homura, but she didn't have time to think about it before Karin took off, flash-stepping in the direction of Urahara Shop. All she could do was follow the girl across the rooftops, Grief Seed gripped tightly in her palm.

She had a dreadful feeling this was going to get very messy very fast.

§ x § x §

A meeting convened in the Urahara Shop early in the afternoon. Kisuke, Tōshirō, Ichigo, and Isshin gathered around the table in the back room to discuss the mystery of Mitakihara and Homura while Tessai minded the shop. Yoruichi perched on her usual cushion in cat form, observing them all.

“What've you got, Kisuke?” Isshin began.

Kisuke tapped his closed fan on the edge of the table. “Something several magnitudes more complex than I initially suspected,” he said.

“ _That's_ not ominous at all,” Yoruichi said drily.

“First, I would like to note that if you haven't been keeping up-to-date with the news out of Mitakihara, you should know that at least four disappearances have happened since Miss Akemi traveled to Karakura: one girl in Shinchi and three girls in Asunaro. Therefore, I am less inclined to believe she is involved with whatever force is causing the incidents. I'm keeping my mind open to that possibility, though, as we have no way of knowing if she has defected from a larger group of accomplices.”

Ichigo and Isshin frowned disapprovingly, but didn't say anything. Everyone else remained neutral.

“Now that that's out of the way, I'll get into particulars,” Kisuke continued. “After exhausting the information from human sources, I requested data on the area from Twelfth Division. My initial suspicion was that, given the population growth in the Mitakihara metropolitan area in the last thirty years, the spiritual density of the area should be about mid-level-- on an exponential scale, of course-- but that the presence of so many teenagers with spiritual awareness might indicate that some force was artificially inflating the density figures there. However, the data proved my hypothesis completely wrong. Instead, density figures remained only slightly higher than they were when the area was first settled after wetland drainage and land reclamation. This should be impossible given the length of time humans have been gathering there in significant numbers. There should be a natural if slow increase in density as more souls gather in one place and influence one another into spiritual strengthening, no matter how minor. I suspect that something is artificially _depressing_ the spiritual density while selectively allowing individual spiritual growth. This is quite a contradictory situation-- when a soul strengthens beyond a certain threshold, it begins to slightly affect the souls around it via... a form of unconscious resistance training, if you will. Multiple individuals demonstrating spiritual awareness should indicate a gradual cascade of spiritual strength through the community. That's not happening. Selective strengthening without spillover implies direct interference, though I currently do not know what form that interference would take.”

“Something Hollow, though, right?” asked Ichigo. “I'm no expert but the way Homura described that Sayaka girl sounded like she Hollowfied.”

“That is the second conundrum, yes,” Kisuke admitted. “Though it cannot be declared with any certainty that the interference itself is Hollow in nature, something about the procedure appears to be related to Hollowfication.”

Isshin narrowed his eyes and grimly said, “You're thinking an experiment like Aizen used to do.”

“Possibly,” Kisuke said quietly. “There is a certain strangeness about it all. My scan of Homura did detect the Hollow-like residue that you described, Isshin, but the readings don't quite match the known range of Hollows. All measurements are slightly more... intense.”

Ichigo scowled. “Meaning?”

“The energy is Hollow, yet not quite Hollow at the same time. Something a bit different.”

“What kind of difference?” asked Tōshirō.

“It's hard to say,” Kisuke hedged. “Moving back to Miss Miki, the description certainly did sound like a Plus gradually declining into a Hollow state.”

“But she was alive,” said Tōshirō. “That should only be possible if a Chain of Fate is detached from the body, correct?”

“True,” said Kisuke. “However, we have no way of knowing whether or not her Chain of Fate was intact. We do know her soul maintained its basic structure because she was reportedly able to fight the Mitakihara 'monsters' with her 'magic'. When taken in the context of complete Hollowfication at a later point and her only beginning to fight a few weeks ago, one can infer that she manifested powers akin to a shinigami or Fullbringer via some form of outside modification.”

Isshin raised his eyebrows. “Are you implying something may be trying to artificially create living shinigami like Ichigo?”

“Perhaps,” said Kisuke. “Hypothetically speaking, someone could try to create living shinigami by severing the Chain of Fate of a spiritually aware person and forcing the soul to cope or go Hollow, thus forming a shinigami-Hollow hybrid. Probability would lean toward most subjects going Hollow. Perhaps their aim is to to create Hollows which could cause mayhem while partially disguised within a human body. I do know that this hypothetical entity can't be using the Hollow soul transfusion procedure Aizen used to experiment upon the original Visored unless they have a mediatory artifact similar to the Hōgyoku-- without a counter, souls subjected to a Hollow transfusion slip into Soul Suicide. I would lean toward them not having such an artifact unless they are grossly incompetent at using it, though-- Aizen was able to turn Tōsen into a flawless hybrid, after all.”

“Someone could be making mistakes learning how to use such an artifact,” Tōshirō interjected.

"True,” Kisuke allowed. “However, the gradual decline seems to imply that the Hollowfication is not a sudden process as when the Hōgyoku or transfusion is used. I only have anecdotal evidence to go on, though. I will say that whatever hypothetical entity conducting whatever hypothetical experiment is knowledgeable enough to target young girls as they approach spiritual maturity. Their souls enter a period of being extremely malleable and adaptable to change at that point, which most girls experience within a similar age window. It's more difficult to pinpoint when individual boys will hit spiritual maturity.”

“Girls approaching spiritual maturity may also be easier to convince to do things just by virtue of being younger,” Yoruichi commented. “Boys tend to be older when they mature spiritually. Even a couple extra years could lend them just enough life experience to be warier. Whoever or whatever is doing this may be capable of appearing innocuous or trustworthy to a young girl.” She cocked her head. “On the other hand, they could be intimidating and coercive to young girls.”

“Reasonable,” Kisuke admitted after a moment's thought. He carefully switched gears. “All of this conjecture is, of course, based upon taking Miss Akemi's testimony largely at face value. And I am certain that she is at the very least hiding details.”

Ichigo scowled. “What makes you say that?”

Kisuke tented his fingers and considered his words. “I have experience with interrogation and reading people from my time in Second Division. She was very careful with her words. Most obvious was her evasion of actually describing one of her monsters. That was a skillful deflection. I do know she was outright lying about how much experience she has using her powers.”

Tōshirō raised his eyebrows, Ichigo continued scowling, and Isshin nodded. “I have to agree with that one. The way she casually healed herself without even looking at the wound told me as much-- there's no way she could master that in a month or two. She also showed little reaction to having wounded herself or feeling pain.”

“Yes, and I've seen her fight twice,” Kisuke continued. “As I told Yoruichi, she is very polished and controlled. Also tactically intelligent. In addition, I have seen her manifest a weapon.”

Everyone around the table expressed surprise.

“What kind of weapon?” asked Tōshirō.

“Oddly enough, a buckler,” said Kisuke. Ichigo frowned, so he clarified. “A small shield attached to her left forearm. She used it offensively as a bludgeon. What I find even more interesting is that she manifests it from a ring on her left hand, but that ring can also turn into an object I have yet to figure out. It looks like a large, egg-shaped amethyst set in a gold stand. I followed her after she left the library-- which I think she is using as a ruse to get away from you, Isshin. She wanders along the railway corridor, holding this egg and watching it like a compass or sensor of some kind.” Kisuke looked around the table and debated whether or not to mention to Kurosaki girls' involvement. He decided against it because he didn't know if Ichigo in particular could feign ignorance if he knew his sisters might be in danger. Kisuke didn't want to show his hand to the girls just yet. “I suspect she is looking for a curious rift in the spiritual structure of the world--”

“What the hell does that mean?” Ichigo asked skeptically.

“Let me back up. The other day I sensed her reiatsu wandering around and suddenly disappear. Concerned for her safety, I sought her in the general area of where I sensed her last. Finally, I resorted to using a sensor to look for anomalies in the area. I had just discovered... a sort of weakness in reality complete with visual distortion of light, if you will, when Miss Akemi suddenly appeared at the site and the weakness disappeared.”

“Again: What do you mean by weakness in reality?” asked Ichigo.

“Imagine the spiritual energy of the world as a cloth. Doorways into and out of it such as senkaimon and garganta are like holes with zippers that can be open and shut. This felt like a portion of said cloth... hmm. You know how when you wear a pin or button, there is often an apparent hole when you remove it? But then it usually closes up as you wear the clothes and the threads shift back into place?” Ichigo nodded hesitantly. “That's what this felt like in the aftermath. That there had been a hole and it was shifting shut. An additional oddity was the faint presence of Hollow-like reiatsu at the site of the anomaly.”

After a long silence in which everyone processed the explanation, Yoruichi asked, “That begs three questions, really: One, why would she be looking for such a thing? Two: Why and how does she disappear at the anomaly? And three: If this thing she's looking for is similar to what she knows from Mitakihara, why haven't we noticed anything in our own back yard?”

“The first question, I am unable to answer, though I would like to think Miss Akemi is trying to counter whatever is going on,” answered Kisuke. “The second, I only had a brief time to feel the anomaly, but I would guess that it is a doorway like a Garganta, though I do not know where it would lead. As for the third, I did some research.” Kisuke tapped his fan on a small stack of notes. “While there haven't been cases of missing or mysteriously dead girls in Karakura, there have been several brief periods during which similar suicides or deaths occur. For example, eight months ago there were four drownings in the same bend of the river in three weeks. The past two months have seen three suicides and four pedestrian accidents along the railway corridor in Karakura and the cities directly to the east and west of us. The two survivors don't remember the time leading up to their injuries.”

“And Homura is searching by the train tracks,” Isshin said heavily.

There was a lull in conversation as everyone mulled over the information and guesswork.

“An expedition was dispatched to Mitakihara on Monday, was it not?” asked Tōshirō. “Has Twelfth relayed any information to you?”

“...About that,” Kisuke hedged.

Everyone looked at him with varying degrees of dread. Ichigo muttered, “That doesn't sound good.”

“Yes. Well.” Kisuke cleared his throat. “The original research party consisted of Department Head Rin Tsubokura and two unseated soldiers from Thirteenth Division as escorts.”

“The 'original' party?” Yoruichi asked morbidly.

“While they made their scheduled reports on Monday through Wednesday noon, they failed to make the next three scheduled reports. Third Seat Akon broadcast a signal to activate the emergency beacons in their Soul Phones, but was unable to connect with any of the three. Attempts to contact them via Hell Butterfly also failed.”

“Ohhh, shiiiiit,” Ichigo said grimly.

Isshin tiredly scrubbed a hand over his face. “Reaction?”

Kisuke tapped his fan against his chin. “Yesterday, Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki deployed to Mitakihara with Third Seat Akon to perform reconnaissance and attempt retrieval.”

Ichigo had opened his mouth to ask a question when the back door was kicked in and Karin hurtled into the room in a strange red costume, then crashed onto the table and dropped Yuzu next to her. Kneeling on the table, she lunged forward and grabbed Kisuke's black haori in both hands and desperately shrieked, “ _HELP HER!_ ”

Everyone looked down at Yuzu as Homura silently landed on the back porch and watched dolefully. Yuzu was in her middle school sailor uniform, which was normal. Not normal were the multiple large puncture wounds around her body and the glassy, vacant look in her open eyes.

Isshin and Ichigo shot up to their knees and yelled, “ _Yuzu!_ ” while Tōshirō and Yoruichi stared at the body with wide eyes.

Isshin shuffled to the end of the table, sat on it sideways, and reached for his daughter's face. He lightly slapped her cheek a few times. “Yuzu! Yuzu, sweetheart, can you hear me? Yuzu, Daddy's here, I'll help you, I'll help you, it's okay, baby, it's okay.” He continued to ramble and search her for an obvious life-threatening injury. When he found none and noticed she wasn't breathing, he shifted position and started chest compressions. “Ichigo!”

Years of assisting in a clinic had Ichigo slide into place to do rescue breathing before he could even think about it through his shock.

Karin shook a surprised Kisuke again when he didn't respond. “ _DO SOMETHING!_ ”

Kisuke knew what he would find even before he reached around Karin and hovered a hand over Yuzu's upper chest, but he initiated the diagnostic kidō anyway. Finding no soul, he glanced at the other people in the room before looking back to the Kurosaki family's feverish attempts to revive their youngest. With a heavy heart, he quietly said, “I'm sorry. She's gone.”

“ _No!_ No, she's not!” Ichigo yelled between breaths, tears streaming down his cheeks. “C'mon, Yuzu!”

“No, no, come on, baby, come on,” Isshin said in a faltering voice as his compressions became less professional and he started to choke on tears. “Please, baby. Please come back. Come back to Daddy.”

Kisuke reached around Karin to put a hand on Isshin's shoulder. Gently, he said, “Isshin. You can tell her soul isn't in her body. I'm sorry, but she's gone.”

Isshin gave up on compressions and threw himself across his daughter, howling in grief. Ichigo fell back jerkily, sitting hard a bit away from the table like an abandoned marionette. He stared at his little sister's unseeing eyes in paralyzed horror. Yoruichi, Tōshirō, and Homura helplessly watched the family tragedy unfolding before their eyes.

“ _NOOO!_ ” Karin shrieked madly as she clawed at Kisuke. “ _YOU'RE LYING! YOU'RE LYING! SHE'S RIGHT HERE! HELP HER!_ ”

Kisuke drew back his hand to place it on Karin's shoulder, worried about her hysterical rage. “I'm so sorry, Karin. There's nothing I can do.”

Karin half-crawled, half-flailed back across the table and staggered to her feet. She took a few steps, tangled her hands in her hair, squeezed her head, and screamed. And screamed. And screamed. Tōshirō scrambled to his feet and stepped to her side, hands awkwardly fluttering over her before settling on her shoulders and squeezing. If Karin noticed, she didn't respond. She just kept screaming, eyes wide and unfocused.

Tessai, Jinta, and Ururu charged into the back room, ready for battle. They took in the tableau in a single glance and gasped. Jinta stumbled forward, moaning, “No, no, no, no, no.”

Kisuke turned to the ruined doorway and fixed a calculating stare on a bloodied Homura, who was standing clutching something that felt like concentrated Hollow reishi while wearing a strange purple and white costume with that odd little shield on one arm. Her face and reiatsu were overflowing with regret. He waited for her to look at him, then evenly asked, “What happened?”

Homura frowned, pursed her lips, and opened her mouth. Then she startled and darted her eyes over to the remaining Kurosaki sister. “Karin! Your Soul Gem!”

Kisuke looked Karin's way and saw Tōshirō turn to him with wide eyes full of alarm as Karin began to radiate Hollow reiatsu. Homura hurried to Karin and grabbed her arms to force the girl to face her. A strawberry-shaped jewel on Karin's forehead shimmered with red and black energy.

“Stay still!” Homura cried, holding up a small black jewel set in silver. “I'll purify--!”

Karin smacked Homura's hand away and screeched, “NO!”

Homura looked shocked. “What?!”

“NO!” Karin shrugged Tōshirō's hands from her shoulders and staggered a few steps back until she hit the wall, returning her hands to her head as though holding it together. Her eyes were crazed. “ _NO!_ ”

“You'll turn!” Homura yelled desperately.

“I don't care! I don't care! That _thing_ killed Yuzu! I won't touch it! _I won't touch it!_ I don't care! I'd rather die! _I'D RATHER DIE!_ ”

Everyone had gone quiet to stare at her, so the series of cracking noises that emanated from Karin were clearly audible. No one managed to even utter her name when the gem at her forehead flared, burst into red and black light, and reformed into an egg-shaped jewel set in tarnished gold. The red costume disintegrated around her, leaving her in her school uniform for a brief instant before her eyes went dull and her body fell slack as the corrupted red jewel exploded.

The sheer force of the explosion and the dark gale it initiated sent the unprepared occupants of the room rocketing backwards. The contents of the room went with them, furniture and tea set and light fixtures shattering against the buckling walls while the people gasped for breath after their impacts. Tessai managed to grab Karin's lifeless body and shelter it from the waves of reiatsu that washed over them all. It was like being caught in a violent hurricane of Hollow reiatsu. It was intense and awful-- then suddenly stopped. The group recovered and surveyed their surroundings.

They definitely weren't in Urahara Shop anymore.

Kisuke darted in front of Homura with shunpo, drew his blade, grabbed her by the wrist that bore her shield and a purple gem which was now shaped like a diamond, and held his blade in front of her throat in one smooth motion, face hard.

“Explain. _Now_.”

Homura's mind froze, then immediately switched to racing. Whether or not Urahara knew exactly what he had done, he had effectively nullified her ability to retrieve a weapon or escape from him by freezing time. She was trapped. If she wanted to survive to make another attempt to save Madoka, she might have no choice but to talk.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am so sorry, Isshin. (u.u)
> 
> ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !  
> I will try to continue with weekly updates, but I must warn you that there /may/ be delays between chapters. I work in the US health insurance industry and things go NUTS between October 15th and February 14th. It may take me longer to write chapters due to busyness and tiredness. Please bear with me.


	24. DREIUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Do I need bodyguards? *shifty eyes*
> 
> By the way, a bearskin is the tall hat worn by the Queen's Guard-- the British soldiers with the red coats and tall black hats. The term seems uncommon in the US.

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§ x § x § 

**DREIUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Kisuke watched the girl's eyes go wide and stare at him with a mix of fear and rapid thoughts of escape that made her actually look as young as she was for once. Curiously, she darted a desperate glance to her shield and tugged at it slightly. He made a point of sliding his hand up a bit to actually grab the shield's strap and tug back, which obviously disturbed her even more. Good. Distasteful as it was to terrify a child, intimidation tended to loosen one's tongue and he didn't have time to play nice.

Around their standoff, the rest of the group got their bearings after the dizzying transition. Jinta and Ururu staggered to their feet and stared at their dim surroundings. Tessai remained kneeling and cradled Karin's body more gently. Tōshirō's eyes darted all around in search of threats, frequently jumping back to his friend's body. Yoruichi stalked behind Homura, intent on tracking her if she attempted escape. Ichigo lay on his front and had drawn himself up on his elbows when he saw Karin's head lolling, her vacant eyes staring past him, and completely froze in horror. His mind just shut down.

Isshin, however, rolled and crawled upright, looking around. “Where's Yuzu?!” he demanded. “I had her! Where is she?! Yuzu!” He levered himself up and shakily gained his feet. “Where is Yuzu?! Ichigo, have you seen Yuzu and Ka--”

Ichigo turned his face to his father with a distant stare of shock, then turned back toward Tessai. Isshin followed his gaze and saw his second child's lifeless body. He uttered a long, wordless moan and gradually sank back to his knees as he stumbled toward her and gathered her into his lap.

Kisuke gave Homura half a minute of silence before he shook her shield arm once while squeezing the strap hard, causing it to become uncomfortably tight. Then he tugged downward as though considering tearing it off her arm. “Tell me what just happened,” he ordered in his most authoritative voice.

“I-it's complicated,” Homura breathed.

“Give me the short version and I'll decide whether that's true,” Kisuke said evenly.

Homura swallowed hard and glanced over to Karin. This time Kisuke let her stare for a solid minute as the sight of her friend's dead body and devastated family obviously made her waver.

“I'm waiting,” Kisuke finally prompted.

Homura looked up at him, mouth opening and closing as she grasped for words. Evidently, she decided whatever risk there was in talking was outweighed by the risk of having her throat slit or her weapon stolen. She cringed warily and blurted, “I heard shinigami hunt people like me and Karin and Yuzu. But we were tricked into it, I swear.”

Kisuke raised his eyebrows. In his peripheral vision, he saw everyone turning to stare at them. “And what kind of people are you?”

Homura looked at him anxiously but straight in the eyes. “Magical girls.”

Silence.

“Come again?” Kisuke asked.

“Magical girls.”

“You're fucking insane,” snarled Jinta.

“Jinta!” Kisuke barked without taking his eyes off the girl. The redhead got the message and backed off. “What are magical girls?” Kisuke asked. Jinta muttered darkly until Ururu silenced him with a kick to his shin.

Homura swallowed and glanced at the sword. “There is a race called Incubators. They find strong girls-- um, spiritually aware girls?-- and trick them into making contracts in exchange for granting a wish. If you accept the contract, an Incubator turns your soul into a Soul Gem--” her eyes darted to the amethyst on her hand-- “and you can transform and be strong and get a magic weapon. Karin said the Incubator told her it's an imitation of a zan... zan...?”

“Zanpakutō,” Kisuke finished in morbid fascination.

“Yes, that.”

From behind the girl, Yoruichi said, “That doesn't explain what just happened and whatever the hell this place is.”

Homura tried to look behind her but was too wary of the sword to turn. “When we contract, the Incubator says we have to fight monsters called Witches to pay back our wishes. But it doesn't tell us that if our Soul Gems become too corrupted from fighting or we fall into despair, our Soul Gems turn black and we turn into Witches ourselves.”

After a pause, Kisuke slowly asked, “Are you implying Karin's soul just turned into one of these... Witches?”

“Yes.” Homura screwed her eyes shut. “I'm sorry. I wasn't fast enough... I should have....”

There was a long silence as everyone either struggled to believe her or connected some unmentioned dots. Kisuke let go of her and withdrew his blade but didn't sheathe it. “Where are we?”

Homura pulled her shield arm against her body and fingered the jewel on the back of her hand as though checking it for damage. “The Witch's labyrinth.”

“Which is...?” Yoruichi snapped.

“A kind of... pocket dimension, I suppose. Every one is different. They always have something to do with what was important to the magical girl before she fell. The Witch hides inside. If you don't defeat the Witch, it wanders around spreading its despair and madness--”

“Causing people to feel compelled to commit suicide,” Kisuke extrapolated.

Homura nodded silently, then hesitantly continued, “Karin's soul was strong. This Witch could claim a lot of victims. We need to defeat it before it runs away.”

Kisuke quietly said, “You mean 'put her out of her misery'?”

Homura looked away from the echo of her own words.

Frowning in thought, Tōshirō cleared his throat. When he had their attention, he asked, “What happens when you 'defeat' a Witch? Are they purified like a defeated Hollow?” His voice rose with tentative hope at the end.

Homura looked down at her feet. “No. The Witch's labyrinth and body disappear. All that's left is the Soul Gem. But it turns black and becomes a Grief Seed instead.” She opened her left hand to show the Pumpkin Witch's Grief Seed. “They can't be purified.”

Kisuke reached over and gingerly took the black and silver spindle from her. She watched him hold it up and scrutinize the fine details of the silver filigree, his racing mind evident in his eyes.

“What do you do with them, then?” Kisuke asked with some distraction. When Homura didn't answer immediately, he looked at her. She was the picture of reluctance. Everyone began to look like they dreaded her answer. The silence dragged while Homura refused to look at anyone.

“Homura?” Isshin said hollowly. She hesitantly looked at him. He was holding Karin's body close, face lost. “Please.”

Homura shifted unhappily. “A Grief Seed can be used to purify a magical girl's Soul Gem of corruption. A few times if it was a strong Witch.”

After another pause, Kisuke prompted, “And then?”

Homura wet her lips and looked up at him as though both ashamed and angry. “The Incubator eats them, supposedly to convert them into raw energy.”

The unseen black fire that was Ichigo's power flooded the chamber with rage. “ _WHAT?!_ ”

Homura flinched, wild eyes seeking him out. Whatever experience she had with spiritual happenings, it seemed she was unused to others throwing their power around when emotional. “Th-that's how it's been for millennia! But Karin and Yuzu--!” She faced Kisuke again. “I didn't think there was any way to do anything else, but when Karin and Yuzu found out they'd been tricked, they said they wanted to tell you, Mr. Urahara-- they said they thought you might know how to free the souls... or something.” Homura looked at her feet, face wretched. “I... I talked them into waiting until after we dealt with something on Sunday because I was worried the shinigami would come after us. I'm sorry.”

After a long, distraught silence shared by everyone in the room, Kisuke calmly said, “So. In summary, there is a race swindling girls into selling their souls for... 'wishes'... so they can farm them and harvest their spiritual energy. Yuzu and Karin fell into the trap and are now at the system's end stage. Defeating the being at the heart of this maze will condense Karin's soul back into a gem form, like this--” he held up the Grief Seed-- “at which point I will have an opportunity to help her with my expertise. Correct?”

Homura blinked up at him, taken aback. “Um, yes.” She looked cautiously hopeful. “You... you think you can do something?”

Kisuke seriously stared at the Grief Seed again, eyes narrowed. “I would need to do some testing and call in some help, but I have some ideas, at least. Do you have any more of these... Grief Seeds, you called them?”

Homura looked stunned for a minute before her eyes lit up with determination. “I have Sayaka's. It's full because we used it to clean our Gems. Is that okay?”

“Perfect,” he said quietly. He glanced at the others and ordered Tessai to put a stasis kidō on Karin's body to keep it from decomposing. Kisuke then met Homura's eyes with equal determination. “We can speak of particulars later. It seems our first task is to navigate this dimension and reclaim Karin's soul. I presume you have a good deal of experience in such matters?”

Homura nodded firmly. “Yes.”

Kisuke tucked the Grief Seed into a pocket and swept his free hand around the room in invitation. “Do advise us, Miss Akemi.”

The girl eyed him a bit suspiciously, but turned to face the others. She was met by a wall of grimly determined faces. Ichigo levered himself to his feet and angrily scrubbed tears from his cheeks. Tōshirō watched her with heavy-lidded eyes, jaw tight. Isshin's face seemed to be trying for encouragement but not quite piercing his sorrow. Jinta looked sour but was swinging his huge club experimentally while Ururu and Tessai looked grave. Yoruichi sauntered over to Isshin in cat form, expressionlessly sitting near the man who was cradling his daughter's unoccupied body. Homura just stared at them, not used to being looked to as an authority on anything-- or being taken seriously at all, really. She didn't do anything until Kisuke stepped up and rested a hand on her shoulder.

When she looked up at him, one corner of his mouth turned upwards a bit. “Start by telling us what to expect.”

“Right,” Homura faltered. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then breathed deeply and looked up at the assembled fighters. “Right. Every labyrinth is different. Sometimes the Witch is near the surface, but the Witch usually hides deep within. You can never assume you won't have to fight your way to the center. The Witch...” she frowned, searching for a word. “...Splinters off small pieces of itself to guard the labyrinth. These are called Familiars. They usually have some sort of task. Some are docile, but others will attack. They can take very, very strange forms. For example, I have seen Familiars that were giant cotton balls with black mustaches attached to giant butterflies that acted as their legs. They looked harmless, but could manifest thorny vines armed with giant scissors.” Everyone looked at her weirdly. Homura shrugged helplessly-- there was nothing she could do about labyrinths being _utterly insane_. They'd get it eventually. “When we do reach the center, don't necessarily take the Witch's appearance at face value. Some are simple, bu sometimes Witches have multiple stages or employ decoys.” Homura bit her lip. “The Witch the three of us were fighting before... we thought it was the mannequin stuck into a giant jack-o'-lantern that was spinning in the middle of the room like a clock. It turned out its core was actually the big bell hanging above it. We didn't find out until after it had pulled up all the train tracks and shot us with railroad spikes.” There was another utterly bizarre few sentences for the others to struggle through. “So... so, be aware of your surroundings. _Anything_ can attack you. I've seen a child's messy drawing of an airplane shoot exploding crayons.”

Kisuke rubbed his chin. “It sounds like an individualized manifestation of madness.”

Homura tilted her head. “I suppose.”

“Well, then!” Kisuke said with a flourish as he turned away to look around. “I wonder what sort of obstacles we'll face here.” He glanced around the room they occupied, which seemed to be the lobby of a museum, though the posters were covered with a fascinating scrawl of unrecognizable runes and piles of books teetered in the dim corners. Kisuke looked over his shoulder at the group. “Ichigo, use Kon. Captain Hitsugaya, ditch the gigai. It's an acceptable loss.”

The young men complied, Ichigo having begun carrying Kon in Soul Candy form to take his place during emergencies while away at college. The Mod Soul blinked and quickly took in his surroundings. “Uh... what the hell?”

“Not now, Kon,” Ichigo grit out.

Kon whipped around to him and started to sass back, but Ichigo pointed over his shoulder. Kon saw Isshin solemnly lifting Karin's lifeless body and faltered speechlessly, then turned to angrily face front. “Whatever the hell's going on, I'm in.”

“Good,” Kisuke said curtly as Homura stared from Kon to Ichigo and back again. “Yoruichi, stick with Isshin. Isshin, can you handle running and jumping in the gigai?” After Isshin's answering nod, Kisuke continued. “Kon and Jinta, center. Tessai and Ururu, rear guard. Homura and I will take point. Ichigo and Hitsugaya, flank.”

The party assumed a rough diamond formation and looked to Homura, whose face mutely slid into a distant battle mask. She did an about face and focused on the entry to the rest of the labyrinth for the first time. It was **m** ahogan **y** with ornate decorative carvings, gold- **p** lated runes ado **r** ning the lint **e** l. Homura approa **c** hed the door and exam **i** ned the hinges and kn **o** bs; it wo **u** ld open inward and one of the knob **s** featured an exaggerated keyhole. She stepped to one side and cautiously bent to peek through. The next room was dim, but she could make out objects of irregular heights and scurrying movement. She stepped back, frowned, and tried the knob. Locked, of course.

“Allow me,” Kisuke murmured.

Homura raised a brow and stepped aside instead of reaching into her shield for a bomb like she usually would. Kisuke walked up to the door and hovered one palm over the keyhole. An orb of red light manifested within the locking mechanism and broke it with a muted explosion. Homura was fascinated.

“Be ready,” she ordered, hand in her shield as she kicked the door open.

The door folded inward on silent hinges. The huge room beyond was lit only by gas lamps and wan moonlight from windows above. It looked like a very old and eccentric library that had hosted a photographic stalker. There was a wide open area before a bank of book cases of varying heights arranged into an apparent maze, the tomes within ranging from ancient to quite modern. The air above the entire chamber was strung with interwoven garlands made by pinning photographs to cords using large mousetraps. The open floor entry was filled with different tables hosting chemical baths, incomplete books, and stacks of photographs. Giant, termite-like translucent insects Kisuke recognized as booklice industriously scurried about, their **j** uvenile wings laying along th **e** backs of the b **r** own monks' habits they all w **o** re. Each had a **m** onocle over on **e** beady eye. They diligently worked at various tasks, some seeming to be developing photos, others pasting photos into albums, writing at antique scriveners' desks, or assembling books. Others carried books, photos, and albums to teetering stacks along the edges of the room; still more took items from the disorganized stacks and carried them into the maze of shelves.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Kon said for the entire group.

Homura didn't bother answering or explaining the absurdity of labyrinths again. Instead, she professionally surveyed the room and declared, “I would prefer to move along a wall and try to go over the maze rather than through it.”

“I agree,” said Kisuke. “These creatures seem docile, but I worry about having a large number of them at our rear should that prove misleading.”

Homura finally withdrew her hand from her shield, having decided on a weapon. “Best to test them while we have a doorway and walls to use as cover.” She ignored several startled sounds behind her as she raised her Beretta, aimed at the nearest Familiar, and shot it. The creature fell down and dissolved into a puddle of glue in an empty habit.

The party tensed for a counterattack that never came. The rest of the library drones continued about their business.

“Where the hell did you get a gun?!” Kon yelled.

Homura calmly looked back at him. “I can store weapons in my shield.”

Kon sputtered. “But where did you _get_ it?! You're like fourteen!”

“That's not important,” Homura said breezily as she faced the front again. “I think the left side looks best.”

“Hmm, that side of the maze does look more even on top,” Kisuke agreed, seeming to completely ignore the mundane weapon in the girl's hand. “It may be dangerous in a way we can't see yet, though.”

Homura nodded and thought that if nothing else, Kisuke Urahara had the mindset for tackling a labyrinth.

The party set out, moving along the left side of the room at a measured pace. They tried to avoid interrupting the booklice, but took out several that mindlessly tried to walk through their formation. The other drones still took no notice of them. Homura, Kisuke, Ichigo, and Tōshirō were the first to leap to the top of the book case that formed the outer wall of the maze. They warily stood ready for battle for a couple minutes while surveying the area for threats. The rest of the group ascended when they gave the all-clear.

It was difficult to guess how far the maze extended because of the garlands of photographs blocking their sight. Even the top of the maze was laid out in a tricky manner, book cases of differing heights looking like a series of platforms. Particularly tall book cases occasionally formed barriers to progress. Kisuke and Homura surveyed the layout and turned to one another. Homura silently pointed out the path she wanted to take. Kisuke looked back at the maze with narrowed eyes, then nodded in agreement. The party proceeded cautiously, weaving through photograph garlands and hopping from book case to book case. The furniture grew wider as they went.

Tōshirō peered over the edge of a book case when they were deep within the maze, curious about the change in size. “Hey. The book cases aren't just wider, they're bigger overall. The ground is sloping down, so they're technically getting taller, too.”

Kisuke and Homura looked down when they reached a corner. The scientist hummed in interest. “What a clever way to force misperception of depth at the beginning of the maze.”

While stopped, Ichigo took a moment to really look at the hanging photographs. Most of them seemed to portray recognizable moments in Karin's life. There were several of her in the odd red costume she had been wearing earlier, often accompanied by Yuzu in yellow. He assumed those photos had actually happened. There was even one of Karin, Yuzu, Ichigo, and Homura smiling and eating crêpes. However, some of them appeared to be things that had never happened-- an older Karin wearing the Japanese women's soccer team uniform and grinning widely; Karin and Tōshirō in summer yukata, both looking five years old as they happily played soccer in front of the ridiculous Shiba workshop; Karin in the shinigami academy uniform; and--

Ichigo swallowed hard. There was a photo of the twins smilingly wearing Karakura High School uniforms, presumably for the first time. Their middle-aged mother stood behind them, beaming proudly with her hands resting on her daughters' shoulders. Ichigo shakily reached up, clasped a corner of the photo, and gently tugged it free from the big mouse trap's bait lever. The mouse trap snapped shut on his fingers and the line twanged sharply. Everyone froze and looked around them as library ladders shot up and fell against the edges of the book cases with a loud series of clacks that cascaded through the room.

“Oh, _good job_ , Kurosaki,” Tōshirō said acidly.

“How was I supposed to know?!” Ichigo squawked as he tried to shake the mouse trap off one-handed.

“They're _literally_ _traps_ , dumbass,” Jinta sneered as he raised his club in anticipation of attack.

Ichigo's embarrassed sputtering was cut off by the crunching ascension of papier maché housecats the size of tigers. Each one had plasti **c** googly e **y** es and wo **r** e epaulettes and bearsk **i** ns over a nun's wimp **l** e and veil. Their claws were small chainsaws.

“Karin's even screwier in the head than I thought,” Jinta muttered. Ururu casually butted the muzzle of her spirit cannon against side of his head from behind as everyone briefly glared at him.

Jinta's lack of tact was soon forgotten in the ensuing mêlée. The three leading shinigami used their ranged attacks to devastating effect, filling the air with bright red and blue light and ice as Homura carefully fired headshot after headshot. No one knew that she was repeatedly pausing time for the briefest of moments to perfect her aim on each enemy-- they simply assumed each small spike of reiatsu was her imbuing bullets with her power. Tessai shielded Isshin and Karin's body as Ururu fired her shoulder-mounted spirit cannon into the horde behind them. Yoruichi warily watched the battle from Isshin's shoulder to see if she would be needed. Jinta crushed cat heads like piñatas with his iron club on one side while Kon did his best to fend off attacks with speed and powerful kicks on the other, but the chainsaws made it difficult. The entire defense began to feel futile when they noticed that the flow of new cats wasn't stopping.

“We can't afford to stop here,” Homura shouted curtly. “We need to keep going.”

“Running battle!” Kisuke barked loudly. “Akemi, fall back. Tessai, shield the formation. Ichigo, Hitsugaya, alternate attacks with me as we run. Ready?”

“Yeah!”

The party took off at a run, Kisuke navigating the maze as the three in the lead took turns attacking. Benihime's scarlet fireworks, Zangetsu's brilliant crescents of light, and Hyōrinmaru's glacial dragon construct formed a brutal waltz as they plowed through the chainsaw-clawed cats ahead of them. After a very long ten minutes, the group skidded to a halt on the last book case. Kisuke called out directions for the fighters to turn and defend against the cats while he and Homura evaluated the next phase of the labyrinth.

There was a large open space as at the entrance to the room. While this area did feature the photograph garlands, it was also dense with red security lasers, caution tape, chains and ropes featuring various “no trespassing” signs in Japanese, English, German, and bizarre runes, and barbed wire. The wall had a door at its base that was nowhere near the height of the book case cliff they stood on. It was too far away to make out any special features.

Homura looked to the scientist. “Straight down, then break a straight line to the door?”

Kisuke hummed. “Straight across at the base would be the shortest distance to have to break up the defenses,” he agreed.

At Kisuke's direction, the party descended along various empty pockets against the wall of the book case. After a hard landing, the spread-out fighters carefully regrouped. They looked up at crackling and hissing from above and found the papier maché cats entangled in the vertical defenses. The lasers caught some on fire; many were ripped and snagged on barbed wire. Some stubbornly tried to force their way down, jumping onto their ensnared cohorts and pawing through openings as they struggled downward. The ropes and caution tape were no match for the chainsaw claws; they mostly had to navigate the chains and lasers.

“Let's not wait for them to get through,” Yoruichi drily suggested.

Kisuke raised one palm toward the far door and silently cast a large Shakkahō. The red bolt tore through everything in its path and blew out the door. The group darted through the tunnel in the defenses, dodging around the lasers which were all that remained. They reached the door just as the first two cats dragged themselves to the ground.

Tōshirō spun to one side. “I'll get the door!”

As soon as Tessai and Ururu cleared the door, Tōshirō jabbed Hyōrinmaru forward and launched a larger version of his dragon construct at and through the gaping hole. It took out a handful of cats before it jammed in the door. Tōshirō kept piling on the ice until the entire entry looked like a glacier. He paused to see if the Familiars would break through, then relaxed with the others.

The group took the opportunity to catch their breath as they surveyed the new room. It was a huge marble chamber with high vaulted ceilings. The entire room had a leftward curve; if there was a door, it must have been around the bend. The floor was black and white tile neatly laid out in a pattern resembling the patches of a soccer ball. Unusually bright moonlight poured in from a series of large skylights. The otherwise empty room's walls were decorated with large murals roped off with velvet cords, used art supplies abandoned at the baseboards.

“An art gallery?” Kon asked in bewilderment. “How the hell did we get into an _art gallery_?”

No one answered him. They reformed their diamond and carefully progressed, most trying not to look at the murals too much after some cursory glances. They were abstract scribbles in various mediums at the beginning of the room but gradually gained form like a child learning to draw. Kisuke's eyes darted over to the murals occasionally to focus on the runic script that was scrawled in random places. Ichigo and Isshin recognized some of the crayon, marker, and chalk pictures from years ago when small versions drawn by Karin's tiny hands had decorated the refrigerator. The art evolved from unidentifiable to stick figures to awkward attempts at perspective and portraiture as they proceeded around the gradually spiraling corridor. By the time a door was in sight, the images on the wall were cartoonish but recognizable drawings of people in Karin's life.

Homura abruptly stopped just before the door with a sharp gasp. Everyone followed her eyes to a life-size colored pencil drawing. A doll-like figure that was definitely meant to be Homura in her school uniform stood smiling in the center of a group of five girls. The other four girls had identical generic faces but individual hair. All wore the same uniform, holding hands and smiling. Those who had done research on Mitakihara in the past week recognized the other girls by their hair from missing persons photos. After a moment, Kisuke lay a hand on Homura's shoulder and tugged her back to reality. She cleared her throat, tossed her hair, and approached the door while trying not to look as shaken as she clearly was.

The tall mahogany door opened easily. This made everyone suspicious instead of relieved. They found another gallery. This one had individual exhibits behind velvet rope. Four were snowmen with soccer balls for heads, each with a different silly face painted on in a different color. Each had cleats, soccer jerseys, and orange cones piled at its base. One had a goal cage behind it. Another exhibit was a haphazard pile of baseball bats and metal clubs that had red paint poured over it. Next to it was a display of rocket launchers, white boxing gloves, and brooms. As they followed the bend, they passed a collection of many different lion plushies; a mountain of candy with partially concealed razorblades glinting in the moonlight; a stack of teapots, tea strainers, and teabags with a tray of burning incense; a pile of rabbit plushies and art supplies; and a curious arrangement of guns, grenades, clocks, and hourglasses.

Everyone was uncomfortable when they passed through the next door. This time the room was much smaller, but its entire contents seemed to have a unifying theme. Tōshirō took one glance and swallowed hard. Scrolls of old-fashioned ukiyo-e artwork dominated the wall space, images of lotuses, crashing waves, and snowscapes scattered around the room. The two largest pictures were a masterful ink painting of a serpentine dragon coiled through storm clouds and a landscape of a brilliant sunset on the opposite wall. Any empty space was studded with studiously pinned and labeled dragonfly specimens in a variety of colors and sizes. At the base of all four walls were neatly sorted inkwells, papers both plain and written upon, cell phones, soccer balls, and snow globes. Several of the party glanced Tōshirō's way, but he steadfastly stared at the door at the far end of the room with his jaw clenched.

The group entered the next room even more hesitantly. No one liked the pattern that was emerging. They tried not to look at the art, but failed when Isshin quietly rasped, “Masaki.”

Large Impressionist paintings in gilded frames adorned the walls. Each featured a cheerful if blurry female figure. In one she was garbed as the goddess Artemis in flowing robes, her moonlit silver bow drawn on an unseen enemy. In another she was some manner of summer fairy queen, gauzy yellow frills floating around her with a gold crown and daffodils in her loose hair; she held a bouquet of sunflowers in her arms. One featured her as a young ballerina à la Degas, perched in arabesque at the center of the top of a set of Libra's scales; one dish held white sand and the other held black while a shadowy figure held her waist to keep her balanced. Finally, there was a painting done in the style of a madonna with child, the seated woman surrounded by her flowing skirts; three small children slept with their heads on her lap as she serenely smiled down at them from beneath her halo. The floor was strewn with sweets, storybooks, and flowers. Several different bows and arrows were propped up in all the corners. A big, fancy crystal chandelier shone rays of sunny light throughout the room.

Kisuke turned back at the far door and seriously said, “Isshin. Ichigo.”

Isshin sniffed and blinked. “Let's go. Let's go.” Kisuke looked to Ichigo. The teenager nodded mutely, tearing his eyes away from the last painting with effort.

The next room was larger and eerily lit from above by a glowing ceiling fresco diptych of two crescent moons, one glowing blue and one glowing red. The room was divided down the center. The blue side featured a line of suits of armor in varying historical styles. Swords, bows, and quivers were mounted on the walls above and around them. A string of repeating numbers trailed across the top of the wall-- 121512151215-- running the entire length of the room. At the center of the wall was a pedestal with a glass case; within it, a crown sat on a plush black cushion. A white hobbyhorse was visible just behind the pedestal, leaning on a wide pile of CD cases and books. The red side of the room had a row of samurai armor, the wall behind them practically wallpapered with medical supplies and weights. Across from the crown display was a medical exam table. Upon its paper covering was a giant scalpel whose handle had been wrapped like a katana's hilt. A collection of rainbow clown wigs was thoughtlessly shoved in a corner.

Ichigo and Isshin gravely glanced at each other, then Karin's empty body, then the far door. They dreaded the next room-- it would probably center around Yuzu. It was going to be more of a stab to the heart than a punch to the gut, especially with the question that lay heavy on their minds:

Where was Yuzu's body?

Kisuke cautiously stepped through the next door and waved the others through. The Kurosaki men tensed and stepped through into... a long, plain white hallway. Everyone stared.

“Well, that was abrupt,” Yoruichi muttered.

 **T** he party moved carefully, uncomfortably aware of the loudness of t **h** eir echo **i** ng steps. They passed through the n **e** xt door into a small white room. The **f** ar wall was covered by a rolling, gra **y** metal grate like th **o** se **u** sed w **h** en stores close for the evening. Kisuke looked **a** round at e **v** eryone and gestur **e** d for Kon to lift it while the rest of the fighters prepared to defend. When they proceeded into the next **w** hite room, Kon warily opened the accordion-style **b** lack wrought iron gat **e** on the oth **e** r side. In the **n** ext room they found **w** hat looked like **a** subma **r** ine door complete with spi **n** ning wheel in the c **e** nter. Kon looke **d** at Kisuke incredulously, **b** ut the sci **e** ntist just **w** aved for him to open the door. The next room w **a** s larger and featu **r** ed a massiv **e** bank safe. Red security lasers crisscrossed the room. Caltrops and barbed wire were spread across the floor. The room was wallpapered with No Trespassing signs in multiple languages. A single line of large runes was engraved upon the door of the safe, a handful of gold coins and large rubies littering the floor before it.

“This is it,” Homura said decisively.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .  
> ?????  
> ?????  
>  Minion: Jerome, whose duty is to catalog new pieces.  
> Minion: Cyril, whose duty is to rid the library of mice.
> 
> A/N: Karin's labyrinth is so unusually/obviously personalized due to her wish and obsession with protecting specific precious people, like her family and friends.


	25. VIERUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *long yawn* It's been a busy couple weeks. Here you go. ;)

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x § 

**VIERUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Upon reentering Soul Society, Captain Ukitake, Rukia, and Akon immediately leapt into shunpo and raced to the Twelfth Division grounds. The scientists of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute paused in their duties to scurry out of their way and watch the bloodied party with fear or curiosity as they descended into the more secure labs near Captain Kurostuchi's office. Akon barked an order to a mousy young scientist who scrambled away to fetch something. When they neared a particular door, Akon set the damaged sensor on the ground and carefully took the small containment kidō Captain Ukitake was maintaining around the spindle that had floated down when the pocket dimension had collapsed. Captain Ukitake and Rukia stood outside as Akon placed the strange little gem into an isolation room. As he closed the door, the mousy scientist brought three tubes and handed them to his Third Seat, then hovered to await new orders.

Akon popped the cap off the tube and poured two small ampules into his palm. He pantomimed to Captain Ukitake and Rukia to copy him, then pressed them into his ears. All three grimaced at sharp pain, but could hear again almost immediately.

“What was that?” Rukia asked as she winced through the pain while rubbing her ears.

“Rapid repair for tympanic membranes,” Akon answered. “It's not uncommon for us to blow our ears with an explosion.” He turned to his subordinate and pointed at the damaged sensor. “Get this down to the Spiritual Wave Measurement Lab _now_. I want this salvaged and studied as soon as possible.”

“Um, sir?” the scientist said nervously as he lifted the sensor, “Uh, where is Department Head Tsubokura?”

Face grim, Akon replied, “Probably dead.”

The scientist gaped, then fled.

Akon was scrubbing his hands over his face and considering his next move when Nemu Kurotsuchi slid into view. She eyed the trio for a moment, taking in their roughed-up appearance. “I see the retrieval mission encountered complications,” she said placidly.

Akon snorted derisively. He tiredly rubbed his neck as the Thirteenth Division officers silently watched. “Tsubokura and the escorts are most likely dead, though we found no bodies. The portal I reported earlier led to some bizarre pocket dimension with some weird thing that turned into a giant LRAD. When the LRAD-monster was destroyed by Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki, the dimension collapsed. The damaged sensor array is on its way down to be salvaged. Other than that... well, look.”

Nemu calmly peered through the viewing window and the spindle in the containment field, then turned back to Akon and raised one eyebrow.

“It fell out of thin air when the pocket dimension collapsed. It feels like the energy of the dimension hyper-condensed into a single object. It also happens to feel a lot like Hollow reiatsu.”

“I would like Captain Kurotsuchi's input on this situation,” announced Captain Ukitake. His eyes were hard as Nemu looked his way. “I read the reports. Something isn't right in Mitakihara. I don't want to assume we eliminated the only threat. Something is capable of evading detection while preying upon humans and unseated shinigami. If it can hide from your broad-scale sensors, we have no way of knowing how many of these things are out there without direct involvement. This needs to be investigated _now_.”

Nemu stared at the captain for a moment before dipping her head. “I will inform Captain Kurotsuchi.”

Captain Ukitake nodded decisively, then turned to leave. Three steps away, he turned back. Jaw tight, he added, “Also inform your captain that I am reporting the situation to the Captain-Commander, so he should expect to hear from First Division soon.” Everyone present translated it to _This isn't something I'll let your captain avoid because it's not interesting enough. Let him know I'm willing to sic the old man on him._

The Thirteenth Division officers left. Akon was itching for a smoke-- he hadn't seen combat in years and the adrenaline crash had hit him headlong-- but he saw the way his superior was eyeing him. She was going to make _him_ explain it to their captain. Great.

§ x § x §

“Any last minute advice, Miss Akemi?” Kisuke asked as he solemnly examined the room.

Homura pursed her lips, doing the same. “It's difficult to say. The overall theme of the labyrinth could mean the Witch will be defensively strong, but it could also mean that it is more vulnerable to attack once the labyrinth's defenses been breached. We may be able to tell more once we see what form the Witch has taken, but even its appearance can't be trusted.”

Kisuke nodded thoughtfully. “Well, there are rather more lasers than I care to dodge. No need to be tidy-- let's just destroy the walls they're coming out of.”

Kisuke blasted one wall with kidō while Tessai blasted the other. Again, Homura watched their techniques with interest. Kisuke actually noticed this time, but chose to ignore it. It could wait. Instead, he directed Ichigo to one side of the vault door and stood by the other side himself. Both wedged the tips of their blades into the seam of the vault door and charged their attacks. The technique succeeded in blasting the door open. They dodged as the door fell toward them, then resumed their diamond formation to cautiously enter.

They found a limited space in what seemed to be a very large cavern, if the distant, shadowed ceiling was any indication. Stacked treasure chests formed walls that were about ten feet tall, densely adorned with caltrops and razorwire. Crisscrossing razorwire formed a woven ceiling between treasure chest walls. The wide path was forcibly narrowed by neat, waist-high stacks of gold and silver ingots. Fancy jewelry, ceremonial weapons, and ancient artifacts were in glass display cases on the flat surface of the collection of precious metals. The only source of illumination was the amassed riches, all softly glowing.

“Don't touch anything if you can help it,” Homura said coldly. “The expensive things may be traps like the photos were.”

The group carefully followed the hallway in a curve with a slight downward slope. It took almost ten minutes to near the end. They paused to brace themselves before exiting the brighter doorway, then slowly crept out.

The overall cavern was enormous and glittered with treasure. The riches were piled up against the inner circle of treasure chests and strewn all over the ground. Everything glittered with gold, silver, and jewels. The chamber floor sloped downward from the walls, but changed course and rose into a wide hill of gold, silver, gemstones, books, weapons, sculptures, framed artwork, dolls, photo albums, and scattered skeletons of ancient creatures. Atop the hoard was a massive exhibit pedestal bordered by velvet rope and an over-sized museum placard featuring a line of large runes. Presiding over the entire chamber was a draconic figure of composite parts: **A** trip **l** e-siz **e** tyrannosaurus re **x** skeleton with golden ch **a** in mail over its ribs and proportio **n** ately large red birds' wings erupting from where the **d** inosaur's fo **r** elegs should have been. **I** mprobably l **a** rge rubies were lodged in its eye sockets.

Everyone stopped and stared, many in disbelief.

“That's... that's supposed to be Karin's soul?” Tōshirō said just above a whisper, horrified.

Homura glanced at his pained face and looked toward the Witch again. She didn't want to look at the Kurosaki men. “Yes.”

Isshin numbly slid down onto his knees, transfixed by the form his daughter's soul took when twisted by despair. Ichigo staggered out in front of the group in shock, speechlessly stumbling down the hill of coins as Homura called out for him to stop. He ignored her in favor of painfully shouting his sister's name, his weapon held loosely as his world narrowed down to a single point.

The skeletal dragon bellowed, its roar interwoven with a tortured, furious scream that sounded like Karin. It beat its wings and stamped its feet.

Tessai reacted faster than any of them, throwing a large kidō shield over their heads as heavy objects fell from the ceiling. Most appeared to be anvils, but several large glass objects shattered against the kidō. Ichigo wasn't as lucky, finding himself trapped in a glass bell jar with a neat runic label. He startled and tried to break out, but there wasn't enough room to swing his blade and the glass seemed to accept his power rather than be compromised by it. The young man looked from his sister's monstrous soul to the retrieval party in dread.

Th **e** anvils had scarce **l** y slammed **i** nto the **g** round when they rose once more, sprout **i** ng horse legs. They cavorted omino **u** sly, each draped with gold chain **s** bearing glittering rubies. Homura shot one and scowled as her bullet simply ricocheted off the anvil. Kisuke muttered a phrase and swung his blade, bright red energy lashing out and cleaving an anvil in two. One nearby turned, bucked, and fired its rear legs at the group as some bizarre horseshoe rocket. Kisuke sharply drew his left arm up and silently cast a round kidō shield to deflect the projectiles.

Another fight broke out, anvil-horses charging the group or launching their legs. Tōshirō focused on immobilizing them with ice as they charged or fell from above, then leaving them for others to pick off between their own enemies. Kon resentfully withdrew behind Tessai's shield, finding his kicks useless against solid iron. He stood protectively over Isshin, who seemed to have distanced himself from reality to stare at his daughter's face with his head bowed. Jinta focused on trying to take out the horse legs with his club, gritting his teeth whenever he connected with iron just wrong and the impact painfully resonated through his bones. Ururu fired her spirit cannon in every direction but Ichigo's.

Her experience with the Pumpkin Witch fresh in her mind, Homura opted to ignore the Familiars in favor of the Witch. She could shove bombs into its jaws but the chain mail niggled at the back of her mind and made her think that its weak spot would be the portion protected by armor. Face set in determination, Homura put her Beretta in her shield and darted away from the group with flash steps, nimbly weaving her way through the enemies while using her shield to bat away horse legs. She ignored the dismayed shouts from the fighters and scaled the central treasure heap in several jumps, landing on the mahogany platform. The Witch snarled and turned to face Homura head-on as she pulled an RPG launcher from her shield, swung it up to her shoulder, and fired a grenade at the center of the golden chain mail at close range.

 

The grenade exploded on impact and blew apart the front of the armor. The dragon hunched forward, beat its wings, and blew fire at Homura with an enraged roar. Homura reacted without thinking, dropping the launcher, freezing time, and leaping to one side to avoid being roasted alive. She brought her shield up and flared her magic around her as she let time resume. When the smoke cleared, Homura stared dumbly while several of the fighters across the room cried out in horror.

Without its chain mail, the dragon's rib cage was exposed. Within it was Yuzu's body, bound to the dinosaur skeleton's spine at heart-level with many strings of pearls. It was dressed in a billowing yellow princess dress, white-gloved hands clasped over its breast and secured in place by a strand of citrines. The dress' sunny frills swayed with the dragon's every movement, as did the little veil attached to the conical hat on the corpse's head.

The Witch took advantage of Homura's momentary shock to spin and swipe at her with its bony tail. She got her shield up in time, but was swept off her feet and sent airborne. She began to angle herself for a decent landing when her direction suddenly reversed after an impact. Looking to the side, she found herself snagged in Tōshirō's free arm as he brought them to a halt and set them on one of the treasure chest terraces. He looked at her, face pained, and quietly said, “Let's end this.”

Homura's face hardened and she nodded firmly. The dragon roared and breathed fire in random directions in a display of anger. Tōshirō adjusted his grip on his blade. “Can you get back up there yourself?”

“Yes. You have a plan?”

“I'll freeze her... it... in place from behind. Try to... to blow h-its head off with that thing you used,” Tōshirō said heavily.

Homura nodded again. “Be ready to grab Yuzu's body when the Witch fades or it will disappear with the labyrinth.”

Tōshirō swallowed, worked his jaw, and nodded slowly, eyes darting to Yuzu's doll-like corpse. His face shifted into something cold and businesslike as he steeled himself. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Both took off at high speed. Homura landed in front of the Witch to get its attention while Tōshirō landed behind it. He shouted and lashed out with his blade. Icy dragon constructs burst from the sword and wrapped around the Witch's tail and legs as Homura pulled a new RPG launcher out of her shield and readied it. The Witch beat its wings and shrieked in fury, turning its head to breathe fire at the shinigami. Tōshirō made a shield of ice with a shout. Homura had a clear shot at the unprotected side of the Witch's neck. She froze time for a moment to perfect her aim, then released her hold on time as she pulled the trigger.

The grenade exploded against the skeleton's cervical vertebrae and completely severed the head. Homura immediately dropped the spent launcher and readied a second in case the Witch hadn't been killed, but it proved unnecessary. The dragon's bird wings exploded in a flurry of feathers as the skeleton fell apart. Tōshirō leapt up and caught Yuzu's body as soon as it began to fall, golden frills dissolving and transforming back into her school uniform. A moment later, the world wobbled and the labyrinth completely collapsed.

The entire party found themselves in the ruined back half of the Urahara Shop. They looked around in surprise as Homura sadly watched the Witch's Grief Seed drift to the floor.

Freed from the bell jar, Ichigo dropped his blade and mutely crawled toward the silver and black spindle with jerky movements. His hands shook as he held them over the gem that radiated Karin's warped reiatsu. Ichigo made a choking sound and carefully cupped his hands around the Grief Seed, then lifted it to stare at it. He was silent for a long moment, then roared with enraged grief.

§ x § x §

Akon had a migraine by the time he sufficiently explained everything to his captain. He was about to flee and acquire smokes and coffee when a Hell Butterfly fluttered in. Mayuri, far more interested in the little black gem, relayed an order to immediately recall Captain Hitsugaya from the World of the Living for a captains' meeting that evening. Well, at least the Captain-Commander was taking the mess in Mitakihara seriously. Making a phone call to Captain Hitsugaya should be simple enough.

Fifteen minutes later, Akon listened to a recording of Captain Hitsugaya's clipped tone professionally asking the caller to leave a message for the tenth time. It was unlike Hitsugaya to turn off his phone and let it go straight to voicemail. Uneasy, he dialed Urahara's Soul Phone.

“Hello, my shinigami friends! I'm currently unavailable! Am I inventing something? Doing an experiment? Selling candy? Giving cream to stray cats? Who knows?! Try again later, hahaha!”

He dialed Urahara Shop.

“Hello, hello, hello! Urahara Shop is currently closed! If you'd like to place a special order, please leave a message! If not, try calling again tomorrow!”

He dialed Kurosaki Clinic.

“Hello, you've reached the Kurosaki Clinic. If this is an emergency, please hang up and call for an ambulance. The clinic is currently closed--”

He dialed Ichigo Kurosaki's Soul Phone.

“Yo. I have this thing on vibrate and will ignore the call if I'm in class, so just keep calling until I pick up if it's an emergency. If it's not urgent, you know what to do. Later.”

He dialed Ichigo ten times before trying the teen's normal cell phone. No answer. Tried Captain Hitsugaya again. Still no answer. Frustrated, he dialed the Soul Phone Urahara had given to Ichigo's Quincy friend.

 _Click_. “Ishida speaking,” said an annoyed voice.

“ _Uryū_ Ishida, correct?” asked Akon. At a peevish affirmative, Akon leaned forward on his terminal and continued, “This is Akon, Third Seat of the Twelfth Division. I'm sorry for bothering you, but I am trying to contact Captain Hitsugaya, Kisuke Urahara, or Ichigo Kurosaki. Do you know where they are?”

After a pause, Uryū suspiciously replied, “Kurosaki returned to Karakura yesterday. I would assume he and Urahara are there. I have neither heard from nor seen Hitsugaya in months.”

Akon chewed his cheek. “I've tried calling all of them, even Urahara Shop and Kurosaki Clinic. Everything goes straight to voicemail. Are you sure you don't know something?”

The line went quiet for a moment, then the sound quality changed as Uryū switched to speaker phone. A feminine sound of confusion and a deep murmur faintly came over the line. Probably Ichigo's other friends.

“Certain. Why are you trying to reach them? What's going on?” Uryū asked tensely.

Pursing his lips, Akon replied, “There has been an incident in Mitakihara. I am attempting to recall Captain Hitsugaya from his mission for a captains' meeting.”

Before he could continue, Orihime Inoue's voice worriedly chimed, “Mitakihara? Does this have something to do with that poor girl Ichigo said is visiting his sisters?”

Cold sweat beaded on Akon's face. The lack of communication was like the Mitakihara expedition all over again. That many powerful figures being out of contact was unlikely to be a coincidence. _What the hell was going on?_

Akon checked the sensor data for Karakura and found nothing unusual for the town-- a strong hollow signature had spiked by the shop and had been extinguished almost immediately, but that happened every few weeks. All he could think of were the Mitakihara portal only detectable at close range and Urahara's report on the strange girl from Mitakihara. Correlation was not causation, but a feeling of dread crept up on Akon regardless.

“Mister Akon?” Orihime said when his silence dragged on.

Akon scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I honestly don't know. But we lost the Mitakihara research team to an enemy unlike anything I've ever seen.”

After a short pause of quiet murmuring that turned into hurried footsteps and distant doors opening and closing, Uryū coldly demanded, “Tell me everything. We'll leave for Karakura on the next train. We can be there in an hour.”

Akon debated what to say. Screw it, may as well give Kurosaki's comrades-in-arms enough information to avoid being killed when they inevitably flocked to their de facto leader's side.

Ten minutes later, Akon tiredly hung up. He reluctantly picked up the office phone and pressed his captain's extension. As expected, the man snarled at him for interrupting his study of his new toy. Akon rubbed his temples and said, “Sir, I think we may have another _situation_.”

§ x § x §

The occupants of the wrecked Urahara Shop numbly stood or sat in the aftermath. After a pause to get his bearings, Tōshirō stepped forward and carefully laid Yuzu's body on the floor in front of her father. Isshin's reaction was delayed, but he soon put Karin's body beside her sister's and sat staring at his daughters with one hand covering the bottom of his face as he struggled to cope. Kisuke solemnly approached him and lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. Ichigo stayed where he was, curled up on his knees as though shielding Karin's Grief Seed while his shoulders silently heaved.

Kisuke, Tōshirō, and Ichigo's phones shrilled notifications for missed calls all at the same time.

“That can't be good,” Yoruichi said ominously.

Kon pulled Ichigo's phone out of his jeans and looked around the group for instruction. Kisuke motioned for Kon to stop as Tōshirō tiredly flipped his phone open and looked at the notices. “Twelfth Division,” he said dully. He opened a text message which announced his orders. “Urgent, unscheduled captains' meeting tonight to hear Ukitake's incident report and Kurotsuchi's initial findings.”

“Sounds like things went to Hell up north, too,” Yoruichi said quietly.

Tōshirō scrolled down, reading multiple missed call notices and increasingly concerned texts. He sighed and pressed the callback button. The call was picked up almost immediately. “Hitsugaya reporting,” the captain said tonelessly. Tōshirō stared at the Kurosaki sisters' bodies as whoever was on the other end of the line spoke rapidly. “We're fine. I understand. I will return just before then. There's been... an incident here. We need to figure out some things.” The person on the other end stammered an objection, but Tōshirō cut him off with a weary, “The things from Mitakihara are also in Karakura. We are dealing with a crisis. We have a lead. I'll report what we figure out at the meeting.” He didn't bother waiting for a reply, ending the call and closing his phone.

Kisuke straightened, face businesslike. “Ichigo. Let me see the Grief Seed.” Ichigo huddled around it more. “Let me try to help her, Ichigo.”

Ichigo sniffed and shambled to his feet. He placed the Grief Seed in Kisuke's palm gently, then hovered his hands over it as one would a sacred object. “Please,” he rasped, looking up at Kisuke desperately.

Kisuke lay his free hand on Ichigo's shoulder. “I'll do my best.” He was prudent enough to avoid making promises he wasn't sure he could keep. Ichigo nodded his understanding and shuffled over to his father. He sat next to Isshin and joined him in silent despondency.

Breathing deeply, the shinigami scientist assessed the room and its occupants then barked orders. “Kon, Jinta, Ururu, clean the place up as much as possible. Yoruichi, keep an eye on them.” He indicated the surviving Kurosakis with one hand. “Tessai, make them some tea then write an incident report.” He gave Tessai a significant look as he said it. Tessai nodded in understanding; there would be sedatives in the tea he gave to Isshin and Ichigo. “Captain Hitsugaya, Miss Akemi; if you would come with me, please.”

Homura warily obeyed, recognizing the order hidden in the suggestion and understanding that Hitsugaya would be behind her to keep her from fleeing. She followed the scientist through more corridors than the little shop should have been able to hold until they ended up in a combination lab and office.

Kisuke crossed the room and indicated a chair at a desk. “Please, sit, Miss Akemi.”

Homura approached the table as though walking toward a guillotine. She sat primly as Kisuke wandered across the room. She could feel Tōshirō's sharp eyes watching her every move from the door. A shinigami at her front, a shinigami blocking the exit, and no idea whether they were as understanding as the twins had claimed they would be. But she wanted them as allies now that she'd seen them fight. And the twins' precious people deserved an explanation. She wanted to tell them everything without getting killed or having her power taken from her somehow, if the shinigami were capable of it. Who knew? As such, one phrase echoed through her head repeatedly:

_Blame the Incubator, blame the Incubator, blame the Incubator..._

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .  
>  ALEXANDRIA  
> The Hoarding Witch with a protective nature. She will shield her treasures from all threats and preserve them forever in her museum fortress.
> 
> Minion: Eligius, whose duty is to trample thieves.
> 
> A/N: :D


	26. FÜNFUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews!  
> …....  
> …...........Oops. *surreptitiously goes back and tweaks conversations to align with correct calendar dates because I am an idiot who didn't look at the calendar* I'll post a note at the end of this chapter with a list of all the changes I've made throughout the entire story. Most are cosmetic, but stuff at “the end of the week” got shoved back a day. The current chapter is the evening of Friday, April 29th.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x § 

**FÜNFUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Kisuke carefully put the two Grief Seeds into secure containers, sat at his desk, and politely asked Homura to excuse him for a few minutes while he tended to a task. They all knew it was an order to stay where she was while Kisuke rapidly typed out notes and questions about the entire debacle. Homura played along, nodding and murmuring for him to take all the time he needed-- a perfect guest. The clacking of the keyboard was the only sound in the tense atmosphere for a good ten minutes. Finally, Kisuke sat back and scrubbed his face with both hands, then sighed deeply. He dropped his hands looked at the bona fide magical girl sitting rigidly in his guest chair.

Kisuke chose to remain silent and just observe Homura for awhile. Her mask of calm was admirable for one so young, but the emotions she tried to hide were betrayed by slight twitches and frowns. The girl was keenly aware that Hitsugaya was leaning against the door to their side not solely out of interest but to keep her from escaping, her eyes unhappily darting to him and the visible hilt of his sword now and then. If Kisuke was interpreting her disapproving glances at his computer correctly, she didn't like that he had documented anything. Her ankles were crossed and her hands were clasped in her lap in apparent passivity, but her knuckles were white. Ah, she was consciously trying to look non-threatening. And his long, wordless scrutiny was starting to unnerve her. Good.

“Well!” Kisuke clapped his hands with false eagerness. Homura startled like a bird. Good. He straightened and rolled closer to the desk. “I think we won't get anywhere until I address your concern about being hunted by shinigami. I beg your pardon, but I've never heard of magical girls outside of fiction, never mind missions to hunt them. If you would explain why you think shinigami would hunt magical girls, I may be able to put your fears to rest.”

The girl stared at him, considering. “I only know what Karin and Yuzu told me last week,” she hedged.

Kisuke nodded pleasantly. “That's fine. Do tell.”

Homura pursed her lips. “They said that what the Incubator does to make us magical girls imitates what zan...pakuto?” Kisuke nodded. “We would have if we went to... Soul Society? And became shinigami.” She paused to look at him for a reaction. Nothing but polite interest. “That our weapons aren't perfect copies, but they can purify Hollows and help souls cross over.” Homura eyed him again. He still didn't react. “Karin said the shinigami don't-- didn't?-- like it when humans can do shinigami things. The Incubator said shinigami execute humans who get powers. It mentioned some kind of genocide?” She peered up at him in inquiry.

“The Quincy?” Kisuke asked. Homura nodded. He scratched his chin. “Unfortunately, yes, though there were extenuating circumstances.” At Homura's skeptical look, he added, “Their methods were outright destroying the souls that made up Hollows instead of purifying them and sending them to Soul Society. There were attempts to make peace, but they fell through. I will admit it was largely due to shinigami arrogance. We've all had our hubris thoroughly shoved in our faces since then, though.”

“In the war?” Homura tilted her head. “Karin said her brother beat the enemy and the shinigami changed their minds because he was human and shinigami and Quincy and helped them. But they didn't want to mention their ties to shinigami so the Incubator didn't believe it.”

Kisuke blinked and raised his eyebrows. “That's... _vastly_ simplified, but-- wait, the girls know all that?”

Tōshirō scoffed from where he leaned on the door and quietly said, “If you thought the girls wouldn't succeed at prying anything out of Kurosaki after all the strange things that happened in the war, you're either a fool or have never met them.”

Kisuke looked thoughtful, then conceded the point with a nod. “Anyway, yes, Ichigo and his allies changed several important minds in the military and the bureaucracy was completely replaced. While still conservative, they are far more moderate. The official stance toward humans with powers has been relaxed. As long as they don't damage and destroy souls, prevent souls from crossing over, or show hostile intent, the Thirteen Divisions will leave them be.” Kisuke sat back. “Do magical girls have hostile intent?”

“No!” Homura blurted, then immediately said, “Well....” The shinigami raised their eyebrows. Homura pursed her lips. “Not toward anyone in particular. But there are magical girls who will aggressively defend their territory. Especially from other magical girls.”

Kisuke frowned. That was actually really surprising. “Against their own? Why?”

Homura quickly averted her eyes. He waited her out. She used a clinical voice to answer, “Grief Seeds are in high demand and limited supply. Some girls team up and share, but others don't. If they're not _with_ someone they're usually _against_ everyone.”

Harsh. “And what kind of magical girl are _you_ , Miss Akemi?”

The girl pursed her lips and stared at him coldly. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On if another magical girl threatens my friends.” She frowned mulishly. “I'm not worried about losing territory. I can easily get new Grief Seeds elsewhere.”

Kisuke hummed in thought to stall. Her attitude bespoke confidence in her abilities and experience. Not necessarily to a delusional extent, considering her performance in the labyrinth. He set aside fact-checking her self-evaluation until later. Deciding to be cruelly blunt to catch her off-guard, he casually asked, “Do you have any plans for causing an apocalypse or something in your anger now that you've failed and your friends are dead?”

Homura recoiled as though slapped, white-faced. She nearly rose from her chair to indignantly shout something, but her eyes went wide and she snapped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth. The girl sat back and stared at him wildly, plainly realizing she had underestimated how dangerous he was with words.

Damn. Backfire. Too quick-witted. Work with it, work with it.

Kisuke took his hat off and dipped his head. “My sincerest apologies for the cruel words, Miss Akemi. I needed to startle a genuine reaction out of you. If I am to assist you and advocate for you, I must be able to assure my peers of your lack of ill will. In my position, I am obligated to take measures to ensure my allies' safety. I hope you understand that.”

Homura squinted at the scientist suspiciously. She resentfully grit out, “The only being anyone needs to worry about me always hating and wanting to kill is the Incubator.”

“Good. I believe you.” Kisuke nodded genially, making a mental note of the interesting qualifier she had used. He wondered if that little “always” was a conscious choice or a Freudian slip. Whichever it was, he needed to convince her to set aside her newly heightened suspicion for cooperation. Her friends were dead, so they would make poor levers, but-- yes. Never use the stick when the carrot will suffice. Kisuke met her eyes and seriously said, “Should the information you provide lead us to determine this 'Incubator' is a threat which preys upon human souls, would you be willing to assist in its elimination?”

The girl blinked. Tilted her head in skepticism. Tried to keep a straight face. Failed to hide the eager sharpness in her eyes. “I've tried to kill it many times,” she said carefully, her face sliding into that of a hardened veteran several times her age. “It has many bodies. Possibly a single consciousness. I've lost track of how many I have destroyed. It always has replacements. I have conflicting information regarding what it really is and where it comes from. It claims to have been causing this cycle for millennia.”

“And it preys on the souls of innocent girls,” Kisuke added smoothly.

Homura nodded, eyes steely.

“I will take great pleasure in unraveling the net this being has caught you all in.” Kisuke let his eyes get heavy-lidded, his face easing into grim craftiness. “And I do _so_ love a challenge.” He put his hat back on. “First order of business is to see if I can salvage Karin and Yuzu's souls.”

Homura shook her head mournfully. “Yuzu's soul no longer exists.”

Kisuke and Tōshirō tensed.

“What do you mean?!” Tōshirō demanded. “You gave a Grief Seed to Urahara--!”

“That's not Yuzu's soul.”

Kisuke rolled over to the lab table and opened the containers to feel their reiatsu. One was definitely a twisted version of Karin's. The other... was definitely not Yuzu's. He looked up at Tōshirō, surprised. “She's right.” He frowned. “How did I not notice...?”

Homura's face relaxed into sympathy. “You were very good, but everyone's first labyrinth is very disorienting. And you were distracted.”

Kisuke scowled. “No excuse.” He closed the containers and rolled back to the desk. “Where is her soul?”

Homura frowned. “I told you: It no longer exists.”

“Explain.”

She paused, then held up her left hand to show him the diamond-shaped amethyst on its back. “When magical girls transform, their Soul Gems do, too. They usually become some kind of ornament.” She withdrew her hand and visibly debated how much to say.

“Miss Akemi,” Kisuke said softly. “From their name, I presume Soul Gems are critically important and you don't want to make yours vulnerable.” Homura looked surprised. “But incomplete information can slow or kill my investigation. I need to know.”

Homura frowned uncertainly and glanced warily at Tōshirō. The young man straightened and growled, “I want to _destroy_ whatever did this to Karin and Yuzu. You're our only lead. No one in this shop is going to let anything happen to you. I'll be your representative at the captains' meeting. We need as much information as possible to shorten the investigation and figure out how to handle this.”

After another minute of consideration, the magical girl sighed. “A magical girl's Soul Gem is literally her soul condensed into crystal. As long as our Gems aren't too corrupted, we can recover from and fight through any injury because the damage is separate from us-- our bodies may as well be puppets once we contract. The greatest weakness in this system is that destruction of the Soul Gem is literally destruction of the soul.” Homura's voice quieted. “Yuzu's Soul Gem was shattered by a railroad spike this afternoon. That Grief Seed is the soul of the Witch who killed her.”

Tōshirō sagged against the door and stared blankly at the ceiling. Kisuke closed his eyes and rubbed them with one hand. “You're certain?”

Homura nodded. “I saw the shards dissolve.”

“Right. Okay. Well.” Kisuke dropped his hand, breathed deeply, and changed course. “Karin's soul, then.” He snagged a pad of paper and plopped it on his desk. Ready to write, he turned a piercing gaze on Homura. “I want you to tell me everything you know about Soul Gems and Grief Seeds, magical girls and Witches. Even things you are uncertain about or oddities you've observed. Save the story of what brought you to this point for later.”

Homura drew a steadying breath and began to speak.

§ x § x §

Uryū Ishida didn't know what he expected to find when he and his friends arrived at Urahara Shop, but it definitely wasn't a half-bombed-out building with debris littering the yard. He kept moving through the shock, though, approaching the gathering of familiar reiatsu signatures with his bow drawn just in case. Uryū rounded the corner and ducked to avoid a flying two-by-four. Chad grabbed his hand before he could loose an arrow and said, “Kon.”

The Quincy stepped back. The stupid Mod Soul stood there in Kurosaki's stupid body and stared stupidly at them. He was scratched up and terribly pale. Not even the sight of Orihime affected him. His reaction was a melancholy, “Oh. What are you doing here?”

A muscle jumped in Uryū's jaw. “ _What are we doing here?!_ Twelfth Division called us because none of you would answer your phones! And what is going on here?!”

“Oh.” Kon listlessly looked into the gaping hole in the shop. “I don't really understand everything, but we fought some weird-ass monsters and Karin and Yuzu are dead, but Urahara's gonna try to fix them.”

“ _What?!_ ” hissed Uryū as Chad and Orihime rushed into the shop. Kon just shrugged and went back to hauling debris.

Uryū caught up with Chad and Orihime, who had drawn up short at the sight of their friend and his father sitting in shell-shocked defeat by the bodies of the Kurosaki sisters.

Orihime held her hands over her mouth and made a tearful sound of dismay, then charged forward. “Ichigo! I'll heal them!” Two of her hairpin fairies glimmered and darted to the girls, fluttered around them, and made a glowing shield. Yuzu's wounds and pallor were undone, but the girls remained lifeless. Orihime's fairies returned to her and spoke in voices that sounded like chimes to everyone else. “But-- but why--?”

Ichigo looked up at her with painful slowness. He stared at her dully, eyes glassy. “Their souls aren't in their bodies.”

“Where are they?” Orihime asked worriedly.

Ichigo's only reply was to speechlessly sink his face into his hands and shake his head. It was one of the more disturbing things his friends had seen.

Yoruichi slunk around from behind Isshin and murmured an order to follow her. She took them aside and explained the afternoon in broad strokes. Orihime cried through most of the report while Uryū and Chad reacted with horror. They were spared having to think of something to say by the appearance of Kisuke, Tōshirō, and Homura.

Ichigo remained morose, but Isshin blearily looked up at the shopkeeper. “Kisuke, you bastard, you had Tessai drug us.”

“Of course I did,” Kisuke said unrepentantly.

Isshin stared for a moment, mumbled, “Thanks,” and went back to watching his daughters as though he might see them suddenly draw breath again if he watched long enough.

Kisuke looked around the room. His eyes sharpened. “Ah! Miss Inoue! Just the talented young lady I wanted to see!”

Orihime sat ramrod straight and stared at him intensely. “Can I help?!”

“Quite possibly. I would prefer to do a bit of study and explain things to you instead of throwing you into a situation blindly. I need to be sure I understand what's happening.”

Orihime clenched her fists and made a face of earnest determination. “I'll do whatever it takes!”

Kisuke smiled faintly. “I had no doubt that you would.” He looked around the assembly more seriously. “Captain Hitsugaya needs to leave to make a report at a captains' meeting. I am sending an official request for him to be stationed here afterward. I need to study Miss Akemi's information and do some tests. In the mean time, everyone is staying here tonight and everyone needs to eat. Tessai, Ururu, please prepare a meal. Yoruichi, please go to the clinic and fetch some things for Isshin and Ichigo.” The black cat trotted down a hallway. “Jinta, prepare a room and futon for the Kurosaki family to stay in for now. Everyone else... just... do whatever. Clearing debris would be nice but you can just sit with the guys if you want.” Kisuke exchanged quiet words with Tōshirō before the captain departed, then retreated to his lab.

Homura stood awkwardly, unsure what to do. A dark-skinned woman strode out of a hall. Homura blinked. She _knew_ that magic signature. “Yoru... ichi...?”

“In the flesh,” Yoruichi drawled humorlessly.

“Um.”

“What?”

Homura looked down at her hands, which were clenched in her lavender skirt. “When you go to the clinic, can you get me something?” Yoruichi raised a brow in inquiry. “Yuzu washed my uniform and stacked it all on her dresser. It has a cream blouse and black skirt. Can you get it for me? I want to change out of this--” she indicated her costume-- “but if I do, I'll be wearing Yuzu's dress. I... I don't think I can do that.”

Yoruichi's face softened and she let out a puff of air. She rested one hand on the girl's head. “Got it. I shouldn't be gone long.”

Left alone, Homura desperately wanted to hide in a closet and forget the day had happened. But she didn't feel she deserved that respite when her... her _friends_ \-- she had made more friends _and gotten them killed a week after meeting them--!_ She shook her head. Her friends lay dead and their family was devastated. All because Homura had prioritized their usefulness over their safety.

Homura approached the Kurosaki family as though walking on eggshells and slowly knelt across the dead girls from the men. When they noticed her, she dragged herself down into the deepest bow she could manage. She held the position and said, “I'm sorry. I should have-- I should have been better-- I should--” Her voice choked off. She swallowed a sob. “I'm so sorry.”

Isshin and Ichigo slowly looked up at her. A minute later, Ichigo rasped, “What did I tell you about always blaming yourself?”

Homura raised her head to look at him, confused. “W-what?”

Ichigo scrubbed his face with both palms, stared at the ceiling to gather himself, and tiredly looked at Homura once more. “What did I tell you about expecting to be able to handle everything yourself?”

Homura blinked, then sat up and stared. “But... but I wasn't by myself. And I held back in the fight. I could have ended it before-- before--” She looked down at her lap, miserable.

“Why did you hold back, then?” Isshin asked hoarsely. One by one, the others in the room started watching the conversation.

“I-- I was s-selfish,” Homura said, unable to look at him. “There-- there's going to be an attack on Mitakihara on Sunday and Karin and Yuzu said they'd help me. I-- I was holding back to see how well they fought. I didn't want to take them to fight Walpurgisnacht if they weren't strong enough to have a chance. But I underestimated the Witch and ruined everything. I should have known better.”

The men stared at her for a long minute. Eventually, Isshin slowly said, “The three of you were fighting creatures in a maze like the one we were in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Three untrained fourteen-year-olds against some kind of nightmare army?”

Homura knit her brows and peeked up at him through wet eyelashes. “Yes, sir. But I have a lot of experience. I... didn't take the fight as seriously as I should have.”

Isshin paused to search her wretched face. “You were trying to find out if you needed to protect them from something stronger?”

Homura squirmed. “Yes? But I didn't protect them from the Witch right in front of us.”

Isshin scowled. “If anyone failed to protect my girls, it was me. I'm their father. I should have noticed something well before now.”

“All of us who are older and have powers should have noticed something,” Ichigo added firmly.

“You shouldn't have to be responsible for the outcome of battles like this,” said Isshin.

“But I am,” Homura argued. “I was there and I didn't fight to the best of my ability.”

Isshin sighed. “You made a mistake trying to protect the girls from the big picture instead of focusing on the small picture. It's a trap even experienced warriors can fall into.” He looked her dead in the eye. “Given your age, your good intentions, and having seen the kind of opponents you're up against without formal training... I forgive you.”

Homura stared at him incredulously. “You're... you're not angry at me?”

“How can I be? You're caught in the same trap as my girls. And if I understood you right, this would have happened eventually whether you were here or not,” Isshin said heavily. “If you hadn't been there, we may never have known what happened. Instead of wallowing in guilt, focus on moving forward. Cooperate with Kisuke. Help him try to save their souls. Share information about whoever the _hell_ did this to my baby girls so we can _destroy them_.”

Both Kurosaki men stared at Homura with fire in their eyes. It was catching. She sat straighter, her expression firmed into resolve, and she nodded. “All right.” Silent tears still trailed down her cheeks.

Isshin sighed sadly and held an arm out. “Come over here.” Homura looked at him uncertainly. He beckoned her again. She shuffled around the girls and was coaxed into kneeling between the surviving Kurosaki family. Isshin took her hand, patted it, and looked at the twins again. Ichigo put an arm around her shoulders and shakily took a deep breath.

All they could do for now was wait for word from Urahara and Hitsugaya. It felt minutely better to not have to wait alone.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter brought to you by hours of boredom stuck home from work with the fever and cough from Hell.
> 
> ***
> 
> CHANGES IN STORY CHAPTERS 0-24
> 
> * changed "Prologue" to "PROLOG IM FEGEFEUER" to better match PMMM  
> * changed chapter titles to German to better match PMMM  
> * revised mentions of how long until Walpurgisnacht  
> * trimmed a bit off the forum posts and news articles  
> * eliminated the news article about Oriko  
> * eliminated the paragraph about Yuma  
> * trimmed earlier A/N's  
> * added some Urahara sass when he's introducing cat-Yoruichi  
> * fixed continuity error in Homura's description of her first labyrinth  
> * changed survey team's arrival in midafternoon Monday to before noon Monday  
> * altered the times/days of some stuff about Urahara's stalking to condense and gain an extra day in my plot BECAUSE I SCREWED UP BEFORE OKAY  
> * removed the extra day of waiting to hear from Rin's team to be more realistic and free up the next day  
> * changed kido names to Japanese


	27. SECHSUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Feeling much better this week. *heart* I broke 100k words. I am stunned. I didn't know I was capable of writing this much.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x § 

**SECHSUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

“It's not like Shiro-chan to be late to anything. Especially something this important,” Lieutenant Momo Hinamori murmured to her captain with a worried frown. They stood in the First Division meeting hall with the other captains and lieutenants, the meeting having been escalated to a joint gathering of commanding officers.

Shinji Hirako, reinstated captain of Fifth Division, made a small _hrm_ of unhappy agreement. “I don't like it.” The past few years had led to him developing more than a passing acquaintance with the young captain through the boy's sibling relationship with his lieutenant. Knowing the obsessively responsible kid, he thought Momo's concern valid. He glanced down the line to the contingent from Twelfth, which included its third seat for the special occasion. “Oy, what'd the kid actually say when you called him?”

Akon bowed his head in respect. “Sir. That there was an ongoing incident in Karakura, that the 'things' from Mitakihara are also in Karakura, and that he has identified a lead for the investigation.”

Rangiku Matsumoto, lieutenant of Tenth Division, frowned at her captain's empty spot. She was about to comment when the meeting hall's doors swung open and admitted her young superior. “Captain!” she called out in relief.

Hitsugaya stopped at the foot of the two rows of officers and bowed shortly. “My apologies for my tardiness.”

Captain-Commander Yamamoto grunted neutrally. “I trust you have information to make up for it?”

Hitsugaya straightened. “Yes, sir.”

Yamamoto silently gestured to the empty space in the rows. Hitsugaya strode over to his place. It was obvious to everyone that something had gone wrong-- the boy looked haggard and tense, holding himself too rigidly. No one commented, though, and the meeting commenced with a firm stamp of Yamamoto's staff.

Akon stepped forward and reported the chain of events that had led to the initial survey party and their disappearance. Next, Ukitake reported the strange events his party had experienced in Mitakihara. By this time, all officers save for those from Eleventh were disturbed to varying levels. Then Captain Kurotsuchi took over.

“I have completed an initial examination of the recovered object,” the mad scientist announced. “Testing of energy characteristics most closely aligns with those of an Adjuchas-class Hollow soul, but is not an exact match. Its material structure is of crystallized reishi. Further testing is necessary. I have yet to determine its origin or function.”

“I can answer that,” Hitsugaya said heavily.

All eyes turned to him. “How so?” Yamamoto asked with narrowed eyes.

“The girl who fled from Mitakihara to seek shelter with the Kurosaki family explained the basics after the incident this afternoon,” Hitsugaya explained. “If she is to be believed, I think we've stumbled upon a long-term atrocity that has escaped our notice for far too long.”

“'Atrocity' is a strong word,” Third Division Captain Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi commented warily.

Hitsugaya took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “According to Homura Akemi, that jewel you found is called a Grief Seed. It is the end stage of a predatory process by which an entity she calls the Incubator tricks girls on the verge of spiritual maturity into selling their souls in exchange for a wish. When they make a wish and agree to the contract, the Incubator tears their souls from their bodies and somehow condenses and crystallizes them in a way that grants girls imperfect access to the zanpakutō they would have if they became shinigami after death. This item is called a Soul Gem. Girls who complete this contract are then called magical girls.”

“Magical girls. You're _kidding_ ,” Hirako said flatly, disturbed.

Hitsugaya glanced at him but otherwise ignored his outburst. “In exchange for their wishes, the Incubator obligates magical girls to use their power to fight dangerous, soul-eating entities called Witches. The creature Captain Ukitake's party fought was a Witch.”

The officers in the room made faces in a wide array of disgust and anger. “Making little girls fight? That's _sick_ ,” interrupted Renji Abarai, lieutenant of Sixth Division.

Hitsugaya slid his eyes to him. “It gets worse.”

Dread began to creep among the assembled officers. Hitsugaya continued. “Witches hide within pocket dimensions called labyrinths. When they are defeated, the Witch condenses into a Grief Seed, as Captain Ukitake witnessed. When magical girls fight within labyrinths, the... darkness and madness of the dimension, I think, taints their Soul Gems. This manifests as cloudiness or darkness of the Gem. Magical girls use Grief Seeds to draw off this taint. The Incubator instructs them thus far. However, what the Incubator fails to tell potential contractees is that should their Soul Gems become too tainted or should they fall into despair, their Soul Gems will turn into Grief Seeds and the girls will become Witches themselves. It is a process that seems to be similar to Hollowfication. Magical girls are unaware of a method to purify Grief Seeds. The Incubator tells the girls to surrender Grief Seeds to it for 'safe disposal,' but Akemi somehow got it to admit that it consumes Grief Seeds-- souls-- to convert into raw energy.”

“ _Fascinating_ ,” Captain Kurotsuchi said gleefully.

“ _Vile_ ,” Captain Ukitake snapped with a sharp glare at the scientist, who ignored him.

“I'll have to experiment... perhaps...? Yes, yes--”

Yamamoto thumped his staff once again to draw everyone's attention. His eyes were opened into angry slits. He glared at Kurotsuchi then turned back to Hitsugaya. “That certainly qualifies as an atrocity, if it is true,” the old man rumbled. “What convinced you of the authenticity of the girl's claims?”

Hitsugaya swallowed and looked angry. “Today we discovered that Karin and Yuzu Kurosaki contracted with the Incubator shortly before the Xcution plot last year.”

“Kurosaki?!” several voices muttered.

“What?!” Rukia Kuchiki gasped. She had bonded with the girls when she stayed at the Kurosaki residence during the Winter War.

“We discovered this when Karin, in some kind of costume, brought Yuzu's body to Urahara Shop for help. Yuzu was dead-- Akemi says she saw her Soul Gem be destroyed by the Witch they had been fighting. Karin... couldn't take it. She went mad in despair and turned into a Witch in front of us. We... we had to go through her labyrinth and...” he took a steadying breath, “put her out of her misery.”

Sounds of shock, dismay, angry muttering, and horror echoed through the hall once more.

“Oh, Captain,” Matsumoto murmured sympathetically behind Hitsugaya, knowing Karin was his best friend. Hitsugaya stoically didn't acknowledge her.

“You witnessed it?” Kurotsuchi asked delightedly. “You _must_ come to my lab and tell me _everything_. What it looked like, what it felt like-- I simply must know! Did you bring it with you?”

“Silence!” Yamamoto roared over Kurotsuchi's morbid curiosity and the noise of the room in general. Everyone shut up, though Kurotsuchi didn't look happy about it.

Hitsugaya swallowed and worked his jaw. “Urahara is compiling a report and studying the Grief Seeds Akemi gave him in hope of salvaging Karin's soul. He requested that I be stationed there as our official liaison because Akemi seems to have accepted my presence. She is skittish around shinigami because Karin and Yuzu told her shinigami used to execute magical girls.”

“How can that be?” Captain Retsu Unohana of Fourth Division asked with her brows furrowed. “Several of us have been with the Thirteen Divisions since its inception, myself among them. This is the first time I've heard anything about this cycle or... 'magical girls'.”

Hitugaya glanced at her, then the room at large. “Apparently, the powers and weapons granted to magical girls enable them to perform certain shinigami tasks such as Soul Burial and cleansing Hollows. Akemi claims the Incubator told the Kurosaki girls that in the past, shinigami have reacted poorly to the living having such powers and moved to execute them without full investigation. The Incubator claimed to have seen the Quincy genocide firsthand through contracting Quincy girls and said all of this in a way to convince the twins to not tell any shinigami about their contracts. Whether or not it's entirely true, I do not know.”

The four oldest captains remained expressionless. “I see,” Unohana said neutrally for them all, neither admitting or denying anything from the dusty past.

“The Kurosaki girls did counter that narrative with their own disagreement about the current state of affairs,” Hitsugaya said uncomfortably, “so Akemi does seem to at least partially trust myself and the shinigami in Karakura. Urahara thinks that if he can reverse the damage to Karin's soul, Akemi will solidly align herself with at least those at Urahara Shop. And she is very interested in seeking and destroying this Incubator she speaks of. That will work in our favor.”

The Captain-Commander sat back and thought. “Captain Ukitake, Mitakihara is your jurisdiction, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

The old man tapped a finger against his staff for awhile before focusing again. “Captain Kurotsuchi, you will continue to study the Grief Seed in your possession and confer with Kisuke Urahara about the progress you each make. Choose five subordinates who are versed in the use of the sensors to go investigate Mitakihara and its surroundings. Captain Ukitake, design a search pattern for the area. You will be in charge of five reconnaissance teams. Each team is to be headed by a lieutenant and the officers of their choice. Lieutenants Kuchiki, Abarai, Hisagi, Kira, Hinamori, assemble and brief squadrons to be deployed as soon as Captain Ukitake's plan is sent to you.”

“Ah, sir,” Hitsugaya interrupted.

The old man raised one brow at him. “Yes?”

“The recon teams need to know that the Witches can have mental effects on people both within and outside their labyrinths. They are the origin of the strange suicides reported in Mitakihara-- According to Akemi, their madness and despair is... contagious, in a way,” Hitsugaya said with a frown. “The less powerful the soul, the more powerful a Witch's influence is. At its worst, a Witch can inflict something called a Witch's Kiss-- an apparent tattoo on the neck that indicates the Witch has taken total control of a subject. They can be removed by putting a hand on one and flaring your reiatsu as though breaking a binding kidō. Or so Akemi said Karin told her. I would suggest that recon teams include only seated officers.”

The Captain-Commander's other brow rose to join the first. “Duly noted.” He glanced around the room. “Your teams will consist of seated officers. No one who goes on this mission is to wear anything that would obscure the neck. Be alert.” The lieutenants chorused their understanding. Yamamoto turned to Hitsugaya once more. “You are to be stationed with Kisuke Urahara and Homura Akemi. Learn as much as you can and convince her to keep cooperating. Pursue her if she attempts to flee.”

“Captain-Commander,” Second Division Captain Soi Fon said curtly. “Should we not take this girl into custody and interrogate her rather than coddle her?”

Yamamoto glanced her way. “I would prefer to save that for a last resort. As long as she is cooperating, I see no reason to give her cause to believe the narrative this Incubator has given her about us. Besides, Urahara and Shihoin are with her. They will shift tactics if necessary.” Meaning that the two former Second Division officers would know when to switch from sweet talk to thumb screws, so to speak.

Soi Fon made a sour face but said no more.

Yamamoto looked around the room, then slammed his staff on the floor. “You will deploy tomorrow. Dismissed!”

§ x § x §

Isshin woke groggily on Saturday morning, uncertain of how he came to be on a futon in a way that his experience pinged as someone having knocked him out. Probably with kidō, since he felt no pain. Then the horror of the day before descended on him. He rolled upright and desperately looked for his daughters.

His girls lay side-by-side on a futon in the middle of the room, slightly glowing with the energy of Tessai's stasis kidō. Faces relaxed, bodies and hair neatly arranged, they looked like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty indulging in a shared nap. But they were too still, too breathless-- too dead.

Isshin choked on a sob and held his head in his hands, forcing himself to breathe normally. Kisuke would help them. Patience. He needed to be strong for his family no matter how crushed his heart was.

Isshin dragged himself into a sitting position and glanced to his side. Seeing his son mercifully sleeping, he looked around the room. Homura was also asleep, but she had propped herself into a sitting position in the corner. Her arms hugged her legs, her chin resting between her raised knees. She looked melancholy even in sleep. Isshin wearily rubbed his face and pinched the bridge of his nose while he tried to sort his thoughts.

He thought of the testimony Ichigo and Kisuke had relayed to him earlier in the week and combined it with what he had learned since his girls--. It made him sick. He wondered what other horrors Homura had seen-- what horrors his daughters had seen. What horrors other people's daughters had seen. Isshin had hated Ichigo's involvement with the Winter War despite understanding its necessity; he had grinned and borne it to the end, then sworn he would protect his younger children from such traumatic and demanding experiences. The failure was a pervasive ache throughout his being. The thought of his girls secretly running around fighting for their souls both broke and burned his heart. His bitterness and rage-- at the mysterious Incubator, at the world, at himself-- was held in check only by the hope of reversing the damage to his girls' souls. He could remain nominally calm as long as the option of saving his daughters was still on the table.

Still, Isshin dearly wanted to know what this Incubator looked like so he could accurately imagine his options for revenge.

Isshin looked up when there was a light tapping at the doorway. Yoruichi leaned against the frame, face neutral. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Time to get up and eat.”

“I'm not really in the mood.”

“You didn't eat last night. You need something.” She spoke more loudly. “Hey, kids, wake up. You need to eat.”

Homura startled awake and looked surprised that she had fallen asleep. Ichigo groaned, looked around, choked on a mournful sound, and lurched upright as he realized the previous day had really happened. Ichigo's breath caught in his throat. He moved to do something, to yell something, to do anything but sit idly by as his sisters lay dead. His motion was halted by his father's heavy hand on his shoulder. Ichigo looked at him quickly. “Dad--!”

Isshin gripped his son's shoulder harder, trying to ground him. “We have to be strong and rational. We need to keep it together so we can help however Kisuke needs us. For the girls. Do you understand?”

Ichigo took several ragged breaths, tipped his head back to face the ceiling, and gulped. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah. For the girls.”

After a minute of inaction, Yoruichi prodded them to leave to get breakfast. Homura looked unhappy and the Kurosaki men looked torn.

“We can't-- We can't just leave the girls all alone...,” Isshin said in a voice that became small and trailed off.

“I'll watch them,” a voice said heavily.

The newly awake people looked around and found Kon in the lion plushie he usually possessed when visiting the Kurosaki house. Homura became distracted by confusion as the men frowned harder.

“I'll be fine,” Ichigo said stubbornly.

Kon heaved an irritated sigh and brandished one paw at the young man. “Get your ass out there and eat something. You won't do Karin and Yuzu any good if you pass out from hunger, idiot. So go eat and drag some answers out of that damn mad scientist buddy of yours.”

Ichigo gaped silently. Isshin took a deep breath with closed eyes then patted his son's shoulder and murmured, “He's right. Come on. Kon will take care of them. They're like his own little sisters, too, now.”

“Shut up,” Kon growled without any real heat.

The entire assembly of employees and guests formed a miserable breakfast party. Tōshirō fit right in when he showed up and gloomily sat near his former captain without saying a word. They were nearly done when Kisuke shuffled into the room. He blinked owlishly at them all and blurted, “Oh. Breakfast. Morning. Right.”

No one commented on what an exhausted mess he looked. The scientist was disheveled and missing his hat. There were dark circles under his eyes and he had yet to shave. His body was unhappy about his all-nighter, but his eyes were still sharp. Everyone perked up in hope.

“Got anything, Sandal-Hat?” Ichigo asked.

“I just might,” Kisuke answered. “Clear the table.”

“Shouldn't you eat, too, Mr. Urahara?” Orihime asked.

Kisuke waved her off. “Tessai's been forcing me to eat every few hours. I'm good.” He put a briefcase down and settled at the table as the shop's employees scrambled to clean up. Kisuke took a deep breath and clapped once. “Okay! I don't think any of you care about the sciencey particulars just now, correct?”

“Get on with it,” Jinta snapped.

“Right.” Kisuke opened the briefcase and pulled out something that looked like a smart phone and three glass cylinders that each contained a Grief Seed-- one each for the Pumpkin Witch, Karin, and Sayaka. “I've studied all three Grief Seeds. I think I understand their structure. I'd like to ask you some questions, though, Miss Akemi. Perhaps ask for some demonstrations.”

Homura nodded, face blank. “All right,” she said cautiously.

“Good.” Kisuke fiddled with the smart phone-like sensor device. “Would you mind transforming for me? I'd like to record the energy readings.”

Homura narrowed her eyes and agreed. Orihime gasped, “Eh?! But if it's like in anime, she'll be naked and sparkly! You shouldn't see her naked!”

Everyone blinked and stared at her. Some of the boys blushed. Homura blandly said, “That's not really how it works.”

“Oh.”

Homura remained seated and brandished her left hand. Her ring burst into violet light and reformed as an egg-shaped jewel. It was notably dull-- the previous day had played hell with her balance of hope and despair. “I'm ready.”

Kisuke frowned. “Your Gem is sullied. Perhaps this should wait until after--”

“It's fine,” Homura interrupted. “It would have to be much darker than this for me to turn.”

“If you say so,” Kisuke said doubtfully. He pressed a button. “Whenever you like.”

Violet light flashed along Homura's body and uniform like fire, leaving behind the battle costume the party had seen the day before. The shield materialized on her forearm at the end. Homura looked at Kisuke with a businesslike frown while the other occupants of the room reacted in various ways. “Was that good?”

“Hmm? Yes, yes, quite.” Kisuke tapped the screen for several minutes, apparently playing with the new data. Everyone sat still and watched him. Satisfied, he finally looked up. “Last night you explained about how this Incubator separates girls' souls from their bodies and a sufficient distance between the body and the Soul Gem could temporarily sever the soul's connection to the body, which can be restored via physical contact between the two. Correct?”

“Yes,” Homura said edgily as the others looked uncertain and troubled. The magical girl tilted her head and tensely asked, “Do you mean to ask for a demonstration of that?”

“I understand it's a heavy thing to ask of you, Miss Akemi,” Kisuke answered soberly. “I wouldn't ask if I didn't have an idea I wanted to test before doing anything to Karin's Grief Seed.” He watched her chew her lip and look at him with suspicious eyes. “I propose that you give your Soul Gem to someone you trust to return it so they can move the appropriate distance.”

Everyone could feel an edge of anxiety in the magical girl's reiatsu. She pursed her lips and practically clawed the table as she stared down and thought. Finally, she lifted her arm and willed the diamond on the back of her hand to turn into its egg form. Homura held it up to Ichigo, face tight in a way that suggested suppressed fear. Still confused, Ichigo delicately took it into his hands and looked between the girl and the scientist. Homura scooted back from the table and tried to sit still, but was betrayed by a slight tremor and paleness.

Kisuke leaned forward and gave Ichigo two smart phone-like devices. “Give one to Miss Akemi. Take the other yourself.” He pointed out the back door, which had been restored by Orihime's power. “Slowly walk away. Aim to go at least....” he trailed off and looked at Homura.

“One hundred meters,” she finished curtly.

“Oh... kayyyy...?” Ichigo said uncertainly.

Homura solemnly looked up at him as he stood. “Just put it in my hand after.”

“Right. I guess.” Ichigo looked at Kisuke. “Should I start?”

Kisuke nodded. Still confused but understanding he had been entrusted with something incredibly precious, Ichigo left the building and moved out of sight. Everyone silently watched the nervous magical girl as she knelt rigidly. A few minutes later, Homura's costume glowed with violet light and burst away, leaving her school uniform. The smart phone slipped out of her hands with a clatter and she slumped to one side.

Isshin reacted the quickest, scrambling to her side and rolling her to face upright. The sight of her vacant eyes and slack face hit him like a ton of bricks. It was the third time in less than a day that he had seen--

“Isshin. Calm down,” Kisuke said, looking at his sensor screen with interest instead of minding the girl.

“Calm?!” Isshin shouted. “She's not breathing!” He moved to start chest compressions, the thought of losing another girl unbearable.

“Tessai, restrain him,” Kisuke said distractedly. “Jinta, go yell for Ichigo to come back.”

Tessai had Isshin pinned to the floor when Ichigo rushed in, took one look, and shouted, “What did you do to her?!”

“She was right. Distance did sever the connection between her crystallized soul and her body.” Kisuke chewed on a pen while looking at energy readings with fascination. “Go ahead and put the Gem in her hand like she told you.”

Ichigo hurried to kneel and gently lay the amethyst in Homura's slack hand. The magical girl immediately resumed breathing with a little gasp and a flutter of her eyes. She levered herself upright with a huff and immediately found herself crushed in a desperate hug by Isshin. Before she could react, he shoved her back at arm's length and scrutinized her. “Are you okay?!”

Blinking owlishly at the concerned faces around her, Homura said, “Yes, I'm fine.”

“Were you aware of your surroundings?” Kisuke asked. He ignored some of the frustrated looks sent his way.

“No. That's how it works,” Homura said, reaching for her teacup with a slight tremble. “I hope you got the information you needed, Mr. Urahara. I don't want to repeat that anytime soon.”

“Of course, of course. That was more than adequate,” Kisuke replied. “How interesting.” He set his device down and looked at her curiously. “Your Soul Gem seems to behave in a manner similar to Soul Candy-- no, a Mod Soul. The main functional difference is that skin contact is enough for the soul to assume control of the body. Soul Candy and Mod Souls require actual consumption.”

Homura tilted her head in confusion. Others made faces of varying levels of understanding and interest.

Kisuke noted her confusion and explained. “Soul Candy and Mod Souls are artificial souls invented by shinigami to possess empty bodies, be they natural or artificial. Soul Candy is generally used by shinigami who have been assigned to blend into the World of the Living while in a false body called a gigai. Its function is to eject the shinigami from the false body and assume control of it while the shinigami attends to business so there is no panic about mysterious dead bodies coming back to life.” He raised a brow in inquiry; she nodded her understanding. “Mod Souls are similar, but they were specifically designed for combat while in human bodies. You met Kon yesterday-- he is a Mod Soul with enhanced leg strength and speed. All artificial souls generally assume the form of a capsule when not in use. Your Soul Gem seems to approximate that pill state, but is far more sophisticated.”

Homura stared at him for a moment. “Is that a good thing?”

“As it happens, yes,” Kisuke said with a small grin. “Theoretically, if I succeed at purifying Karin's Soul Gem, I should only have to put the Gem in her hands to revive her.” Hope colored everyone's faces at the pronouncement. “I do have one more test I want to do. More like an observation. And I would like Miss Inoue to participate.”

Orihime threw her hand skyward as though volunteering in school, eyes shining in eagerness. “Yes! I'll help!”

“Good!” Kisuke chirped. He waved a hand at the three cylinders containing Grief Seeds. “All right, this one is Sayaka's, correct?” Homura nodded. “And it is 'full' or 'spent,' as you and the twins used it to cleanse your Gems as much as possible.” Homura nodded again. “And this is the Grief Seed you acquired yesterday, yes?” Homura nodded, glad for the way he artfully dodged mentioning Yuzu's death. Kisuke's eyes wandered to Homura's Soul Gem and back to her eyes. “No one has used it, so you should be able to draw off the taint in your Gem, correct?”

Homura hummed and held out a hand for the Grief Seed, understanding what he wanted to observe. “Do you want me to use the smart phone again?”

“If you would,” Kisuke said politely as he gingerly placed the Grief Seed in her hands. “Lay the phone on the table and your Gem on the phone. Miss Inoue--”

“Yes?!”

“--Have your Shun Shun Rikka watch what happens when the taint is drawn off of Miss Akemi's Soul Gem. I want you to understand the process. My hope is that observing how the contamination is removed naturally will assist your fairies enough to be able to amplify the process to reject all the contamination from a Grief Seed and turn it back into a Soul Gem.”

Orihime's eyes went wide in hopeful understanding. “Oh! I get it!” She gestured at her hairpins. “Ayame, Shun'ō, come out and watch!”

The hairpins flared gold and two small figures darted out from the ornaments. Their appearance and language were indistinct to the others at the table, but they hovered near the Soul Gem as directed.

Homura tipped the Grief Seed against her cloudy Soul Gem with a little clink. Everyone watched as darkness gathered and seeped out of the amethyst like iron filings drawn to a magnet. Soon, the Soul Gem was a more brilliant purple than it had been. Homura withdrew the Grief Seed, going still when the two fairies darted after her hand. She held the Grief Seed rigidly as the fairies flitted around and chattered, then swooped back to the Soul Gem. After a few cycles, they zoomed back to their mistress and fluttered around her head.

Orihime clapped delightedly. “They think they can do it!”

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yay! :D


	28. SIEBENUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A day late because my laptop died-- like, so beyond fixing that the repair shop felt it would be immoral to take money for extensive repairs to temporarily salvage it when the same money could get me a new machine-- and I became the bitterest Black Friday shopper on the face of the planet because I NEED a laptop for work. Ugh. Replacement acquired, at least.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x § 

**SIEBENUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Everyone made hopeful sounds as Homura returned the Grief Seed to Kisuke, who hummed and looked at it thoughtfully before putting it away. “Do they have any comments about the items?” he asked.

Orihime looked at her fairies expectantly. After some chattering and chiming, Orihime looked back to Kisuke. “They say it might be pretty draining because it'll be complex-- they have to reject the contamination _and_ the transformation. Something about the crystal structure being different between the two? They won't know for sure until we try. But they mostly understand how the Soul Gems and Grief Seeds are the same and how they're different, so they should be able to work with it.” One of the fairies chattered. “Oh, Ayame says thanks for having them watch that. It was very helpful. They won't have to waste energy figuring out the best way to do it.”

“You are quite welcome, Ayame!” Kisuke said, preening. “Would you like to take a look at Karin's Grief Seed right now?”

“Sure!” Orihime cheered.

Kisuke put away the Pumpkin Witch's Grief Seed and removed Karin's from its container. He delicately set it on the table. Orihime held her hands out.

“Sōten Kisshun: I Reject!”

The two fairies floated on opposite sides of the Grief Seed. A translucent gold shield snapped into place over it. Black reishi drifted up and dissipated against the shield like smoke. Isshin and Ichigo gripped the table and leaned forward, staring intensely at Karin's soul. Ten minutes slipped by before the black stone shifted color to have muddy traces of red. Sweat beaded on Orihime's temples as the gem progressed from opaque dark carnelian to mildly translucent dark garnet. It gained more clarity, shifting to a dark spinel before crimson light blossomed from the crown of the Grief Seed and flowed downward around the silver spindle like flower petals. There was a pulse of energy as the hollow space filled with red reishi. The silver, strawberry-shaped decoration atop the Grief Seed shimmered and filled out with ruby light, the metal shifting from silver to gold. Gold settings burst out and wrapped down the egg-shaped ruby, met at the bottom, and filled out along the bottom to form a golden cup. After one last pulse of light, Orihime's fairies disengaged their shield and wobbled back to their tired mistress.

Isshin burst into tears while Ichigo broke into relieved laughter. Everyone made celebratory and relieved sounds. Homura, however, stared with eyes wide as saucers. Flummoxed. Bewildered. Awed. Dumbfounded. She vaguely wondered if this was what it felt like to witness a true miracle. Still not quite believing what she was seeing, Homura shakily reached out and hovered a hand over the Soul Gem. It felt like Karin's magic, strong and pure. Her mouth opened and closed, unable to put what she was feeling into words.

“Well, Miss Akemi,” Kisuke said with a grin. “Now it should only be a matter of reuniting the Soul Gem with Karin's body, correct?”

Homura stared at him speechlessly for a long moment before nodding jerkily. Ichigo leaned across the table and happily lifted the Gem with reverent hands. Isshin was already in the hall on his way to the spare room the girls were in. Everyone followed in an excited jumble. Isshin lifted Karin's body and cradled it in his lap as Tessai canceled the stasis kidō. Ichigo approached, held his breath, and lay the Soul Gem in his sister's limp hand.

Karin immediately drew a breath and fluttered her eyelids. Isshin sobbed and held her close, rocking her like he had when she was small. Karin's breaths continued to come in gasps. Isshin pulled back to look at her. Karin's eyes jumped from person to person before landing on Yuzu's body. Her face slowly contorted, hands shakily rising to her head.

Karin screamed.

§ x § x §

Thirty-five grim-faced, fully briefed shinigami stood in neat ranks near Seireitei's main senkaimon. It was quite the unusual sight, most missions being of a much smaller scale. The five chosen lieutenants stood at the head of the lines of each of their personally selected teams, each with a Twelfth Division scientist already delegated to it. They deployed over the Mitakihara train station as soon as Captain Ukitake issued their orders, then split up to cover their assigned areas. The gloomy skies suited their moods, all subdued and wary for a threat they might have little warning of.

§ x § x §

Red eyes in expressionless faces stared skyward from multiple locations.

§ x § x §

Isshin struggled to hold Karin still as she thrashed and sobbed while hyperventilating. “Karin. Karin, sweetie, it's okay, you're safe, shhh, you're safe.”

“Am not! Am not!”

“Yes, you are, baby. Daddy has you. You're safe. Just breathe. Deep breaths. Come on, deeeeep breaths.”

Karin threw her head back, mouth open wide, and took wheezing gasps as she stared at the ceiling. When she had downshifted into loudly crying, she clung to her father and babbled, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry Daddy, I'm so sorry, oh my God I'm sorry!”

Isshin rocked her and soothingly said, “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetie. Just keep breathing.”

“B-but I tried to hurt everyone and Yu-yuzu-uu is d-dead and oh my _God_ she was _inside_ me oh my God!” She clutched her chest and started hyperventilating again. “Yuzu, Yuzu, Yuzu, Yuzu--!”

Everyone in the room froze. Uryū's eyes turned to Homura. “I thought you were all unaware when disconnected from your bodies?” he asked in an undertone. Homura helplessly shrugged and held up her hands, wide-eyed and completely at a loss. These were uncharted waters.

“My guess would be disconnection by distance causes dormancy while the active nature of the Witch was accompanied by some awareness,” Kisuke said with a frown.

“Oh my God _I was a Witch oh my God!_ ”

Kisuke cringed. “Oops.”

Isshin tried to keep her pinned to his chest as she kept wailing, but she struggled against him. She dropped her Soul Gem, broke free for a moment, and tried to lunge for her sister, but Isshin was able to get his arms around her and her arms and pull her back against his chest, still facing out and wailing.

“Bring her back, too!” Karin cried. “You brought me back, bring back Yuzu! _Do it!_ ”

Orihime glanced at Kisuke uncertainly. The scientist covered his face with a hand and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“DO IT! _DO IT NOW!_ WHY ARE YOU WAITING?!”

“Urahara,” Ichigo bit out, using the man's actual name for once. “Just get out Yuzu's Grief Seed so we can help them both, yeah? They'll help each other.”

In the ensuing silence, the various witnesses gradually became aware of Kisuke, Tōshirō, and Homura avoiding eye contact with everyone else.

Isshin looked to Kisuke in confusion. “What are you waiting for, Kisuke? Get out Yuzu's Grief Seed.”

Karin sagged back and devolved into a disturbing mix of sobbing and humorless laughter. The scientist hesitated.

“There isn't one,” Homura said in a strained voice

“What? You gave it to Sandal-Hat back in the place,” Ichigo said with confusion.

“That wasn't Yuzu's,” Homura answered, looking like she was facing a firing squad. “That was the Grief Seed of the Witch who... who destroyed Yuzu's Soul Gem.”

A heavy silence filled the room. It was like everyone in the room was holding their breaths and staring at Homura. Kisuke and Tōshirō were ashamed that the fourteen-year-old had gathered the nerve to say it to Ichigo and Isshin's faces before they did.

Isshin turned to Kisuke. “She's wrong, right? You have Yuzu's soul, right?”

Kisuke regretfully said, “Isshin--”

“You have her soul for Inoue to fix, right? Get it out. This isn't the time for your pranks.” Isshin's face was slowly drawing into horrified grief once more.

“Can't glue it back together if the pieces are all gone!” Karin lilted through her tears with an edge of madness that suggested her alternative contribution was endless screaming.

Ichigo looked back to her, alarmed. “Karin--”

“Can't put the puzzle back together if you burn up all the pieces! Just ashes, ashes everywhere!”

Isshin tried to peer around his daughter's head to see her face. “Karin, sweetie--”

“Ashes won't make pretty pictures anymore they just blow and blow and blow away--”

“What-- what the hell? Karin? Karin, look at me!” Ichigo called out as he shuffled in front of her on his knees.

“Yuzu's soul was pretty glitter sparkle-sparkle and it blew and blew and blewww away and wouldn't let me caaatch iii-iii-iiit!” Karin slipped into tired, moaning wails, shoulders hitching with each sob.

Ichigo flinched hard, then whipped to Kisuke with a question plain on his face. Kisuke met his eyes and solemnly affirmed, “Yuzu's Soul Gem was destroyed before the girls showed up in the shop yesterday.”

Isshin went white, closed his eyes, and tried to keep calm while tightening his grip on his surviving daughter. Ichigo whispered a broken little “What?”

Orihime gasped loudly and threw her arms forward. “Sōten Kisshun: I Reject!”

Confused, everyone cast about for what she was reacting to and followed the fairies to where Karin's Soul Gem lay on the floor. The ruby was darkened and actively dimming. The shining golden shield appeared over it and siphoned off the darkness.

“But she hasn't been in a labyrinth!” Tōshirō shouted.

“She has descended into despair again,” Homura explained quietly. “That's enough.”

“So, what, it's gonna keep going dark until she's happy again?” Jinta asked incredulously with a pained look at Yuzu. “Because I don't think that's going to be happening anytime soon.”

“Not exactly,” Homura answered.

“I'll just keep helping her until she doesn't need me to,” Orihime said with a determined pout as her fairies returned to her.

“Inoue... I don't know how wise that is,” Chad said quietly. “You're pale.”

“This part was easy! The other part was the hard part,” Orihime insisted.

“Ichi-niiiii-iiiii-iiiii,” Karin sobbed. “Don't be mad at Homuraaa, not allowed, not, not, not--”

Ichigo turned tearful eyes back to her. “W-what? Why would I--?”

Karin's voice varied from a moan to an enraged shout and back again as she answered, “She _tried_ and did her secret thing and stopped everything click-click-freeze but thAT BITCH _SHOT US SO FAST_ we were already hit when she stopped the clahhh-hahhh-hock.”

Everyone else had been still and silent, so the whisper of Homura shifting her feet was plain to those near her. Beside her, Kisuke instinctively reacted with swiftness befitting a former third seat of Second Division and clamped his hand around her right wrist just as her shield burst into being on her left arm. The rest of her battle costume quickly followed. He was aware of a click and a rattle as he looked at the girl's face and saw she was frightened and deathly pale. Kisuke kept his eyes on the girl and expected the others to help restrain her, but no one moved.

Eyes wild, Homura turned toward him, twisting her body to face him while swinging her free arm back. She leaned back and tugged her captured wrist hard; he turned to face her properly and tightened his grip to keep her anchored, which he momentarily realized was her plan as she used the resistance to generate torque and propel her shield arm up at him in a forceful arc. Kisuke easily caught her wrist, of course, but immediately found himself with no open hand to block the taser aimed perfectly at his chest. She must have dropped it into her hand from her little bag of tricks on her backswing. An instant too late at twisting her wrist to ruin her aim, he flared his reiatsu in defense soon enough to mitigate most of the damage and pain the attack should have caused him. A strong electrical current sizzling through one's body was far from enjoyable in even a mild application, though. He grit his teeth and rode it out, having experienced far worse in his years as a shinigami.

When Homura realized her escape gamble had failed and gotten her doubly caught instead, her face truly fell into panic. She wildly fought against the iron grip on both of her arms but was unable to move them at all. Kisuke twisted her wrist more to force her to drop the taser. It fell, but the cartridge separated from the main body of the weapon so weight didn't pull the darts out of his chest.

Kisuke blinked rapidly. After shaking his head out and smacking his tingling lips experimentally, he said, “That was terribly rude of you, Miss Akemi.” He cleared his throat and worked his jaw a bit. “Clever, and excellent quick thinking, but _terribly_ rude.”

“Let me go,” Homura breathed.

“No.” Kisuke looked down at the two wires trailing their way up to the darts embedded in his chest. “Ah, Yoruichi will never let me live this down,” he lamented. He looked back at the girl. “You could have killed me with one of your guns, you know.” Not really, but she didn't need to know that.

“I don't want to kill you,” Homura said impatiently, though everything else about her screamed of fear. “I just want you to let me _go_.” She kept pulling.

“Oh, really?” Kisuke said with exaggerated interest, tightening his grip and turning to the rest of the group. “Hey, everybody, what do you think I should-- do...?”

Literally every _thing_ and every _one_ in the room but he and the magical girl were impossibly still. The world's color had a faded, washed out quality. Several people were frozen mid-blink. Karin's anguish was a silent tableau. The dropped taser was suspended in midair halfway to the floor. The surreality distracted him for a brief moment.

Homura capitalized on his inattention immediately, using his grip on her wrists to brace herself while she pivoted on her right leg, sharply drew her left knee up across her chest, and brutally drove the heel of her boot into the side of Kisuke's kneecap. It dislocated with a loud crack as she summoned a hunting knife from her shield, its blade stabbing out at the scientist's hand and succeeding in slicing him from the middle of his thumb to a few inches up his wrist before losing momentum and falling away. She expected him to let go of her in surprise and pain and topple over. Instead, he grunted with the pain and shifted his stance to balance mostly on one leg, slid his injured right hand up her arm, and tore the shield from her wrist, skinning her left thumb with the clasp in the process. He slung it away with little thought.

Homura screamed as time resumed. She desperately lashed out with the same leg, trying to kick him in the groin, but he grabbed her ankle and lifted her leg to throw off her balance. She tried to punch him with her bloody hand, but his height advantage and her awkwardly bent angle let him dodge easily.

To the rest of the room's occupants, Kisuke and Homura went from solemnly watching Karin's reawakening one moment to facing each other, each balancing on one leg as Kisuke held Homura's arm and leg up in a bizarre ballet pose in the next as a knife and a taser fell to the floor and Homura's shield rocketed into a wall and dissolved in violet sparkles. It was all topped off with Homura-- inexplicably in her costume when she hadn't been a moment earlier-- ineffectively beating one violet-encased fist against Kisuke's chest from an awkward angle as she wobbled on her free leg.

“What the _hell_ just happened?!” Jinta screeched into the stunned silence.

Karin switched out hysterical sobbing for creepy hysterical laughter.

Kisuke peered around the room as though surprised, seeming to completely ignore Homura's continued assault. “Oh, my. Well, this is awkward.”

“Your talent for understatement will never cease to amuse me,” Yoruichi droned. “What the hell, Kisuke?”

“What, indeed,” he replied to everyone's immediate annoyance. After a minute of analytical thought in which the captured magical girl struggled with increasing desperation, Kisuke faced her. “I'm guessing this is what Karin meant when she said you stopped the clock? You can stop time, or do something similar enough to it to be functionally the same?”

Sounds of surprise, disbelief, and amazement murmured through the room. Homura didn't reply; she just kept fighting to get away.

“But physical contact with you must negate the technique. Otherwise, you would be gone already, wouldn't you?”

Homura was going to break her own wrist and ankle if she fought his grip any harder.

Kisuke tilted his head. “Tessai said he overheard you apologizing to Isshin for holding back in battle. Is this what you meant? Not using this technique soon enough?”

The girl flinched.

Kisuke turned pensive. “This is how you move around so quickly, isn't it? You freeze time and don't let it start again until you're safely away.” Upon further reflection, he said, “Ah, that's how you dodged the Witch's fire in the labyrinth, isn't it?”

Homura stared at him with the wild gaze of prey cornered by a predator.

“Honestly, I can understand why you would want to hide this. The prospect is terrifying and there are far too many people who would want to use you for their own gain. It was actually quite wise of you to hide this,” he said conversationally. “You did a good job of concealing this up until now. I respect that. I never would have guessed this just from sight. I thought you might have some form of teleportation. _That_ would have been interesting. _This_ is amazing.”

“Please don't experiment on me,” Homura rasped.

“Urahara--!” Ichigo managed to gasp out.

Kisuke blinked innocently, leaned back, and released the girl's ankle. “Of course not. Not without your permission. You'll want to avoid the current captain of the Twelfth Division, though. He's less scrupulous.”

A long silence stretched between them as they looked at each other. Homura manifested a new shield but didn't use it, just eyeing the scientist suspiciously.

“What are you going to do to me?” Homura asked.

“ _Do?_ ” Kisuke hummed. “I don't plan to _do_ anything to you. Unless you run away-- then I will seek and restrain you.” He looked her in the eye seriously. “You are our only... coherent source of information on the magical girl system and this Incubator you spoke of.”

“I'm co-oh- _herent_ , you-ou _asshole_!” Karin protested between ragged gasps.

No one really wanted to touch that.

“The shinigami government--!” Homura protested.

“Will take you _over my dead body_ ,” Ichigo interrupted with a snarl.

“Captain Hitsugaya?” Kisuke asked politely.

After a moment, Tōshirō carefully answered, “I don't see how the specific niche abilities Akemi acquired through her victimization are directly relevant to reports about this Incubator and the magical girl cycle in general. For now. Not unless she moves to use said abilities against souls in general or the Thirteen Divisions in particular. Or if all magical girls can stop time.”

Karin laughed harshly. “Homura's a special snowflake.”

“Then I don't see reason not to be... reserved... in reports. Kurotsuchi is already creepily fascinated by this whole thing.” Tōshirō looked at Homura with the stern face of a military officer. “Should I perceive you as a threat or should your power become worrisome, I may choose to privately inform the Captain-Commander of this power. I think he would see the wisdom in keeping such an ability out of the written record and public knowledge. At our meeting last night, he specifically said he trusted Urahara and Shihoin's judgment with you. I agree. For now.”

After a pause to consider her words, Homura said, “As long as the shinigami government is aligned against the Incubator instead of magical girls and I am guaranteed safety from experiments or confinement barring some offense on my part, I will cooperate.” Soon enough, none of them would remember any of the things that had happened, anyway: Walpurgisnacht's descent-- her turnback point-- was less than a day away.

“Agreed,” Tōshirō said, inclining his chin briefly.

There was a long, awkward pause after Kisuke released Homura's wrist. No one quite knew what to say. Orihime directed her fairies to heal Kisuke and Homura's hands and Kisuke's knee. Kisuke picked the taser darts out of his chest.

“She managed to _dislocate your knee and tase you_ , Kisuke? _Really_?” Yoruichi said incredulously.

“She tricked me,” Kisuke whined childishly, deliberately trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Pssh. All that time in your lab's made you soft.” She gave Homura a thumbs up. “Congratulations on getting one over on Kisuke. He needs to be smacked down once in awhile.”

Homura correctly interpreted their little scene as _We have no hard feelings about your violent escape attempt_.

“Soooooo,” Yoruichi drawled after another minute of awkward silence. “Stopping time. That must be interesting.”

“I wish you could turn it back,” Karin sniffled, calmer than she had been, if only due to exhaustion. “Maybe we could... Yuzu could....” She closed her eyes and covered her face, shoulders shaking. Isshin hugged her close.

Homura pursed her lips and said nothing, eyes darting to the floor to the wall to the ceiling to the window-- anywhere but at a human face.

Several of the room's occupants looked at each other, finding her reaction strange.

“Can you?” blurted Orihime with wide, innocent eyes. Homura's eyes slid to Orihime against her will. “Can you turn time back, too?”

Homura didn't answer, face stonily blank. Her lack of a denial drew everyone's attention again.

“H-homura?” Karin asked, voice wobbling with hope.

Homura frowned and looked at a wall, shifting uncomfortably. She still didn't deny it.

Karin pried her father's arms off of her, flailed to the floor, and crawled to Homura, her legs too shaky to stand. She knelt in front of Homura and grasped the girl's purple skirt in white-knuckled hands. Her face was transfixed as though looking up at a goddess. “Can you?” she whispered. “Can you go back in time and save Yuzu?”

Homura looked down at her friend's tear-streaked face, bit her lip and thought of the others in the room-- she could _feel_ Kisuke's eyes drilling into the side of her head-- and decided to throw her lot in with them. For this timeline, at least. “It's... not that simple. But maybe.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me,” Jinta muttered.

Karin tightened her grip on Homura's skirt and tugged. Crying, she asked, “Can you go back and tell me and Yuzu not to contract?”

“No.”

“You _just fucking said_ you can go back in time,” sneered Jinta.

Homura glanced his way. “I can't go that far back.”

“Then what's the point?”

“How far back can you go?” Kisuke asked quietly. When Homura looked at him, she could tell he was thinking intensely.

“March sixteenth. A bit over six weeks.”

Kisuke tilted his head. “That's awfully specific.”

Homura stared back. “Yes.” She didn't elaborate.

“That's far enough to save Yuzu, though!” Karin said quickly. “Will you do it?! Will you go back in time?!” Isshin and Ichigo held their breaths, looking at the girl hopefully.

Homura shifted unhappily. “It's not so much a matter of _if_ I go back, but how much I'm able to _do_ next time I go back. There are so many variables that it's extremely difficult to get a desired outcome. I've already failed my mission in this timeline again.”

“'Again'?” Isshin murmured with dread.

“What mission?” asked Yoruichi.

Homura closed her eyes. “To get Madoka and as many of my other friends as possible through the last six weeks and tomorrow's attack alive, sane, and without turning. Preferably keeping Madoka from contracting.”

There was a long silence as everyone thought through the implications of her stated goals-- that her friends died, went insane, or turned into Witches, over and over.

Kisuke delicately asked, “How many times have you repeated the last six weeks trying to save them?”

Homura didn't answer immediately. At length, she dully said, “I lost track somewhere in the forties. That was awhile ago. I don't bother counting anymore.”

“Oh my God,” Ichigo whispered. Isshin closed his eyes for a moment and scrubbed a hand across his face. A lot of Homura's strange behavior began to make sense.

“Even just forty times...,” Uryū said, gaping. “Forty times six weeks... that's four-- no, four-and-a-half _years_ on its own!”

Homura shrugged. The number didn't really mean anything to her anymore.

“How are you still _sane_?” demanded Uryū. “How have you not _given up_?”

Homura glared at him with steel in her eyes. She chose to ignore his concern for her sanity. “As long as there is a chance to save Madoka, I'll never give up. I don't care how hard it is. I don't care how many times it takes. I don't care if I have to take care of all the Witches in Mitakihara and defeat Walpurgisnacht by myself. I _will_ save her.”

Uryū stared, stunned speechless. Homura had no way of knowing, but she had sown a seed of respect among many of those present.

Karin let go of Homura's skirt and sat back. “You're _serious_ about taking Walpurgisnacht down by yourself, aren't you, you crazy bitch?” Homura just frowned down at her. Karin tilted her head and hollowly said, “You're a fucking self-defeating masochist.” Homura's frown turned into an offended scowl.

“What is Walpurgisnacht?” Tōshirō asked with a frown.

Homura waved her hand dismissively. “It's not important. I can handle it.”

“Bullshit,” Ichigo snapped.

“She told me it's a giant Witch without a labyrinth that's gonna drop on Mitakihara like a hurricane-bomb tomorrow morning,” Karin said. She looked Homura in the face unrepentantly. “And she said the Witch is so big because it's a Witch collection like a Menos Grande is a Hollow collection.”

Alarmed, everyone stared up at Homura to see if she would deny it. She didn't. Ichigo screeched, “ _Not important?!_ ”

Homura shrugged. “I'm abandoning this timeline tomorrow anyway. I was going to see how well Karin and Yuzu fought with me in hope of teaming up with them and Mami and Kyōko next time-- maybe the five of us would be enough to take out Walpurgisnacht-- but I can't do that now. The outcome of this timeline's fight doesn't matter now. I'm not going to bother returning to Mitakihara before my turnback point.”

“There's a specific point you travel back from? Every time?” Kisuke asked. He patted down his haori in search of the pen he had left in the other room.

“Excuse me,” Tessai interrupted. “Forgive me, but this is an awkward place to have such a discussion. Both by available space and... other reasons.” By which he meant Yuzu's corpse, which they had been talking over the entire time. “Perhaps we should move back to the table?”

It was generally accepted as a good idea, so everyone trickled out of the room. Homura and Kisuke paused at the door to see what the Kurosaki family would do. They looked torn.

Kon jumped down from the shelf he had fled to in the initial stampede of people. “I still don't really understand what the hell is happening, but you'd better go deal with it if there's a chance of helping Yuzu. I'll stay with her.” That said, the plushie waddled over to Yuzu's head and plopped down. He patted her hair with one paw. “See? She won't be alone. Now scram. Figure out how to fix this.”

Isshin and Ichigo stood and helped Karin up. Ichigo then scooped up Karin's Soul Gem as Isshin helped Karin wobble into the hallway. She froze in the doorway and refused to move for a minute, tearfully staring at her twin. Then she scrubbed her face angrily and croaked, “Let's go figure out how to save Yuzu and fuck up Walpurgisnacht.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am le tired. (x_x)


	29. ACHTUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Work is murdering me omg. You've been so patient with me. Thanks! ;)

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**ACHTUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Everyone settled around the table in Urahara Shop's back room once more, this time joined by Karin. Ichigo set his sister's Soul Gem on the table where Orihime could see it-- just in case. The surviving Kurosaki sister curled up in her father's lap for comfort. Kisuke reappeared from down the hall with a voice recorder and a notebook. Once he was situated, he turned to Homura, who was in her school uniform once more. The girl sat across from him, between Ichigo and Isshin. Tessai had served tea, so she was fiddling around with her cup.

Kisuke cleared his throat to call the meeting to order. He looked Homura straight in the eye. “Okay. I think what we need is for you to tell everything from the beginning. That will probably answer a lot of our questions without our having to ask.”

“Everything?” Homura asked with a frown.

“Well, obviously not over forty timelines' worth of events. Tell how this all began. I'm very interested in the original timeline. Give important highlights from there on.”

“All right.” Homura took a deep breath. “In the first timeline, Mami and Madoka saved me from a Witch two weeks after I transferred to our school. The Incubator-- it looks cute and calls itself Kyubey to sound nicer-- said I had the potential to be a magical girl, but I was too afraid to contract. I went with to fights sometimes. It all seemed very straightforward. Then Walpurgisnacht came.” Homura paused and stared into her teacup, then breathed deeply again. “I followed Madoka and Mami. It seemed wrong for them to be risking so much to protect the city with no one to... appreciate them, I guess. I thought I could contract and help if things went bad, but I froze when Mami was killed. I tried to stop Madoka from fighting by herself, but she said it was her duty. She did it-- she defeated Walpurgisnacht-- but she died. That's when the Incubator came to me again.”

Kisuke's eyes narrowed. “It waited for your greatest moment of weakness and desperation and exploited it.”

Homura nodded. “I contracted. I wished to redo my meeting with Madoka, except I would be strong enough to protect her like she protected me.”

Isshin tiredly palmed his face and shook his head. Such an innocent and earnest wish. It was something he could see a nine-year-old Ichigo do in the aftermath of his mother's death. And some monster had taken advantage of that broken heart.

“I immediately went back in time,” Homura continued. “I woke up in the hospital the day I was to be released to start school.”

“March sixteenth,” Kisuke guessed quietly.

“Yes.”

Kisuke scratched his chin. “So your time travel is in your head? That is to say, at mind level, writing over your soul or memories at that moment, in a way?”

“I suppose,” Homura said with a shrug. “I've never cared about how it works.”

Kisuke hummed and scribbled on his notepad.

“So what went wrong that time?” Yoruichi asked.

“We did relatively well in that timeline,” Homura continued. “Madoka and I beat Walpurgisnacht and survived.” No mention of the other girls. “But then Madoka turned into a Witch. That's how I found out about the origin of Witches.”

Those around the table grimaced, shook their heads, or just looked angry.

“So you went back again,” said Yoruichi.

“Yes.” Homura pursed her lips, face somewhere between frustrated and mournful. “I tried to warn everyone. No one believed me. I suppose no one _wanted_ to believe me. Then Sayaka turned into a Witch in front of us and we had to... put her out of her misery.”

There was that phrase again. Homura was silent for a long time, grimly staring at her tea.

“I take it your friends... didn't handle it well?” Uryū said delicately.

Homura closed her eyes. “Mami went insane.” She wrapped her hands around her cup and squeezed. “Mami... she uses magical guns and magic ribbons. When we were standing in the train station after the labyrinth collapsed, Mami restrained me with ribbons so I couldn't stop time for her and shot Kyōko's Soul Gem. A one-shot kill.”

Various listeners recoiled. “What?!” “Oh my God!” “Why?!”

Homura sighed. “She was crying and shaking. She said something like 'If Soul Gems become Witches, then we have no choice but to die.'” She wet her lips. “Madoka stopped Mami from shooting me by shooting Mami's Soul Gem with her bow and arrow.”

Orihime held both hands to her face, eyes shimmering with tears. “Oh-- oh, Homura--”

Homura deliberately ignored her-- and everyone's reactions, really. “Madoka and I beat Walpurgisnacht again. We were laying in the ruins, both of us about to become Witches, when M-madoka used her last Grief Seed to save me.” Homura swallowed hard. “She asked me to go back in time and keep her from contracting at all. I said yes. Then she--.” She cut herself off and hunched forward.

“Madoka turned into a Witch again?” Ichigo asked gently.

Homura shook her head and covered her face, unable to speak.

Ichigo carefully lay a hand on her back, worried. Glances were shared around the table-- what could be worse?

“Miss Akemi?” Kisuke said quietly.

“M-madoka didn't want to become a W-witch, and there was still t-time left before I could go b-back.” Homura drew a ragged breath. “S-so she asked me to sh-shoot her Soul Gem. And I d- _did_.”

Isshin closed his eyes again and leaned back, trying to control his rage at what fate had befallen the girls. If Ichigo made a similar effort, he failed badly, sad outrage at what the girls went through flooding the room. Face unreadable, Karin silently slid out of Isshin's lap, crawled to her friend, and wrapped her arms around Homura's shaking shoulders.

“You did the right thing,” Isshin said thickly. Homura looked up at him and found him still sitting tensely with his eyes closed. He looked like he had aged ten years since the previous afternoon. “Knowing what she would go through, thinking there was no way to save a Grief Seed, and knowing that you would soon undo it all... you did the right thing. The hard thing, but the right thing. You spared her that pain, however briefly.”

“But--”

“Shut up,” Karin muttered darkly. “I know what it feels like when it h-happens to you now. You did the right thing.” Her fingers curled into Homura's arms as she whispered, “She was better off that way.”

After a suitably tactful, long pause while Homura pulled herself together again, Kisuke said, “Is there anything you want to add from additional timelines?”

Homura sniffled and thought. “I've come very close to succeeding at at least saving Madoka several times, but whenever I've gotten Madoka to tomorrow alive and uncontracted, she ends up doing some combination of dying, contracting, and turning while I'm fighting Walpurgisnacht. Various things happened that made me learn things I told you about Soul Gems and the Incubator. Otherwise, it's been... a lot of combinations of the same thing, really. People die or turn in different ways, but it's the same set of patterns. Except everyone died early this time.”

Everyone was quiet for awhile as Kisuke tapped his pen and stared blankly at his notepad. Eventually, he asked, “Have you ever had any help dealing with all of this?”

Homura shifted. “Sometimes I can convince Mami and Kyōko to cooperate. I tried going to the police once early on when I was still stupid. That ended about as well as you would expect.” Psychological tests galore. She had ended up dodging police and social workers as a mentally ill runaway in that timeline.

“I wouldn't say stupid,” Kisuke mused. “Naive, perhaps, but understandably so. It makes sense to seek help from authority figures when you are overwhelmed by something dangerous.”

Homura made a disdainful sound, obviously still thinking she had been stupid. Kisuke and Isshin sighed.

“Let's cut to the chase,” Yoruichi said frankly. “Are you going to come for us for help next time around?”

“I had considered it,” Homura hedged. She still wanted the three Kurosaki siblings as allies; she wasn't sure of the others. “But none of you will remember any of this. I would be a stranger telling you strange things.”

Kisuke rested his elbows on the table and wove his fingers together. “Tell me, Miss Akemi: Does whatever you store in your shield travel back in time with you?”

Homura blinked in surprise. “Yes. Except for Grief Seeds-- they disappear. Why?”

The scientist hummed and stared at the ceiling in thought. “That makes things much easier.”

“What do you mean?”

Kisuke eyed her keenly. “We have until tomorrow morning to amass as much evidence as possible, come up with things to give you to convince our other selves you are telling the truth, and cram it all into your shield, of course.”

Homura stared at him, eyes wide.

“Hmmm, I want to investigate why you can't take Grief Seeds with you and how your shield works-- it's all terribly fascinating-- but I suppose another me will have to study that. I'll have to write down some notes.” His lips curled faintly with mischief. “I wonder if it would be easy or difficult to solve a riddle a future version of you wrote.”

“...You know, Kisuke,” Yoruichi drawled, “Somehow it feels like I should only be surprised it's taken you _this long_ to stumble upon a way to mindscrew yourself.” She disregarded her friend's pout in favor of weighing Homura with a measured glance. “Assuming we get stuff together to convince our... past, future, other, _whatever_ selves to cooperate with you, would you come to us?”

Homura's mouth opened and closed speechlessly for several moments as she thought. While she was still unsatisfied that she knew enough about the shinigami and their allies to truly say she trusted them, there were several huge mitigating factors: They fought well in labyrinths. They seemed able to apply science to the situation in a way that could reap future dividends if they were allowed to investigate further. It sounded like there was _an entire army_ she could point at Walpurgisnacht. But the most priceless advantages an alliance with them could reap would be the ability to purify Soul Gems without Grief Seeds and the ability to reverse the Soul Gem's transformation into a Grief Seed. That alone could break the chains that kept her tied to the Incubator no matter how much she hated using its methods to stay sane.

It would be folly to ignore the shinigami's capabilities in the next timeline. But it could be equally foolish to throw herself into their arms without reservations. Caution would have to rule the day.

She trusted the Kurosaki family. They seemed to have her best interests at heart in addition to their shared hate of the Incubator. She felt reasonably sure they would behave the same way in a new timeline, especially if she could prove how badly wrong this timeline had gone for them. They were just that frank, honest, and empathetic.

But what of the scientist?

He seemed genial enough, but Homura was absolutely certain that was a sugar coating over cold steel. Candy and razor blades, just like in Karin's labyrinth. Kisuke Urahara was frightfully perceptive, unusually insightful, insatiably curious, and better at getting her to admit things than she was comfortable with or confident she could resist. He could be a valuable ally or a terrifying enemy.

Homura decided to table that issue until she could think on it in private. Instead, she pursed her lips and said, “My concern would be the involvement of the shinigami military.” Her eyes strayed to Tōshirō, who frowned but didn't respond. She looked back to Kisuke. Though she didn't notice it herself, he saw her subtle look of uncertainty and distrust was equal for both himself and the shinigami captain.

Kisuke's sharp mind read between the many lines. “A legitimate concern,” he allowed with an inclination of his chin. “If you start on the wrong foot with them, it could get quite bad. Second and Twelfth Divisions would be far more heavy-handed than me, should the Thirteen Divisions have no context and want your information. Cooperating with me-- with us here in the shop-- will be your path of least resistance, as our affiliation with the Thirteen Divisions is informal and we are thus not entirely obligated to obey orders from them. And the Captain-Commander often seems comfortable with having Captain Hitsugaya lead special teams in the World of the Living, so _he_ can help minimize bad reactions in Soul Society.”

“How can I be sure he won't react in the exact opposite way?!” Homura objected. “Hitsugaya is a military leader--!”

“He is,” Kisuke conceded. “He is also personally involved through his relationships with the members of the Kurosaki family and capable of nuance and discretion. Isshin was once his commanding officer, Ichigo is a comrade-in-arms, and the girls are his friends. He has spine enough to express disagreement to his military peers and defaults to treating unknowns with dignity while investigating them instead of automatically condemning them in a snap judgment. While he can be very exacting and even merciless in battle, he is capable of independent thought and morality and applies such harsh qualities only when appropriate. And Hitsugaya, like many shinigami, has expressed distaste for Captain Kurotsuchi's methods. Should you show yourself trustworthy and responsible to him and appeal to his sense of decency about not wanting to end up in Mayuri's labs, I'm fairly certain your little secret won't find its way into an official report unless there are dangerous extenuating circumstances. Even then, such a report would be discreet and directly to the Captain-Commander to mitigate the chance of others in the command structure deciding to do things to you on their own. Am I correct in this assessment of your character and likely actions, Captain Hitsugaya?”

Tōshirō, sour-faced, looked like he couldn't decide whether to be flattered or insulted. He reluctantly nodded with a frustrated sigh.

“How are you a hardass and a softie at the same time, Tōsh?” Karin muttered distantly as she stared into space, almost as though talking to herself while still lethargically draped around Homura's shoulders. “I've never understood it.”

Tōshirō shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know how to answer that-- or if he was even meant to answer that at all-- so he settled for an uncertain frown.

Kisuke cleared his throat. When he had Homura's attention again, he continued. “I believe the Thirteen Divisions' reaction, absent the circumstances that have happened in the last week, will depend on how you approach them. I can be a liaison for you-- I know how they work.”

“What he means,” Yoruichi interrupted with a smirk, “is that he's pretty decent at talking circles around them and turning a situation to his advantage. Nine times out of ten, he can convince the captains it's wise to let him be the point person for handling local oddities. That odd time out is when the captains insist on there being an official presence, in which case they usually shove Hitsugaya at the problem and make him deal with Kisuke. Or Rukia Kuchiki if the weirdness doesn't merit a captain's attention. Right, Caaaaaaptain?”

Hitsugaya grumbled his agreement while pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache.

“And Kuchiki is like one of the family around these parts,” Yoruichi added with a lazy grin and gesture around the room. “If you go to the Kurosakis first, then come to us at the shop, we can handle how to break it to the higher-ups among the shinigami.”

Homura frowned and tilted her head. “You _want_ me to go to the Kurosakis first? Not you at the shop?” At Yoruichi's nod, she asked, “ _Why?_ ”

Yoruichi, Kisuke, and Isshin all exchanged glances before breaking out in grim laughter. Even Karin managed a dark snicker. Uryū and Tōshirō sighed deeply. It made no sense to Homura.

“Why, Miss Akemi!” Kisuke lilted from behind a fan that had mysteriously appeared in his hand to hide a sharp grin. “The first thing you should know about dealing with the Thirteen Divisions-- and supernatural conflicts in general-- is that having Ichigo Kurosaki on your side is the best life insurance policy you could ever acquire!” He waved his fan at the young man, who looked unamused. “Honestly, the best thing you can do for yourself in any timeline is get Ichigo on your side.”

Homura looked around at all the baffling expressions of general, sometimes reluctant agreement. “ _Why?_ ”

“Kurosaki is obnoxiously powerful and bizarrely influential among shinigami,” Uryū explained with a strangely resentful respect. “If the Captain-Commander got... over-eager... and decided to move against you in any way, he'd have to plow through a lot of people who aren't directly under his command to do so because Kurosaki is inexplicably good at gathering allies.” He gestured at the people in the room. “He'd have to throw his subordinates against Kurosaki's allies and Kurosaki himself-- and much of the shinigami command structure hold Kurosaki in high regard, so giving such an order could sow dissent in the ranks.”

“What? Seriously?” Ichigo asked with innocent surprise.

Uryū pushed his glasses up his nose. “Trust _you_ to be completely unaware of how your antics affect shinigami politics,” he sneered.

“Hey!” Ichigo looked around. “Tōshirō, is that true?”

A muscle twitched in Tōshirō's cheek. He scowled at Homura. “Is he going to remember any of this beyond tomorrow?”

Homura warily shook her head. “No.”

Tōshirō closed his eyes and sighed forcefully. “ _Yes_. Heaven help me. Your power and social influence are the proverbial elephants in the room among Seireitei authority figures. Everyone knows they're there; no one wants to talk about them.”

Ichigo blinked, still surprised. “Oh.”

“Yamamoto must thank God every moment of every day that you are the friendly idiot you are, Kurosaki,” Uryū sniped.

Ichigo scowled. “Hey!”

“It pisses off Soi Fon, doesn't it? Doesn't it?” Yoruichi asked with poorly suppressed glee. “Ichigo's a real _bee in her bonnet_ , isn't he?”

Tōshirō snorted. “Yes.”

Yoruichi and Kisuke cackled. Tessai cleared his throat disapprovingly.

“Ahem. Yes. Er. Anyway,” Kisuke said, slipping back into seriousness. “Given a way to convince us to cooperate and shelter you from any bad reactions by the Thirteen Divisions, will you come to us for help?”

Again, Homura opened and closed her mouth speechlessly. It was all so overwhelming. She had wanted help, yes, but hadn't expected anything on the scale they were offering. It could turn out very well, but it could also complicate everything with even more variables.

“Homura,” Ichigo said firmly. When she looked up at him, he offered her a pained smile. “You don't have to do this alone anymore. We'll help you. We'll help you save everyone-- Mami, Sayaka, Kyōko-- and Madoka and Yuzu.”

A dismayed frown revealed her misgivings. “There are just so many potential variables and complications to add....”

“I think you've been scrambling to cover too many angles by yourself,” Isshin said quietly. “Let us step in and help you help them.”

“Juggling fifty flaming batons is less likely to end in disaster if you have more than your own two hands to do the juggling,” Yoruichi drawled.

Homura closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Everyone stayed respectfully silent, recognizing the weight of the decision she was making. Eyes still closed, she firmly said, “Yes. I'll do it. I'll seek you out.” She opened her eyes and solemnly looked from person to person. “Please do as much as you can to ensure your past selves cooperate.”

Among the sounds of general agreement, Kisuke loudly smacked his folded fan on the table. “Okay, okay, okay! Listen up!” He tapped the fan tensely, gray eyes hawklike as he gave out orders. “Everyone is to write down as much as they can remember about where they were and what they were doing from the week _before_ March sixteenth to the present. I want Miss Akemi to be able to pick a good time to contact us as we will likely have no time to work that out before the turnback point. I will collect all of these diaries or calendars for Miss Akemi's reference. Next, all of you are to write something to your past selves to convince them to cooperate. Mention how badly this has all gone, mention deeply personal secrets, package up unique trinkets, I don't care as long as it would convince another you they're not being pranked. Write them out by hand-- I want your past selves to recognize your handwriting. I will then use a reishi sealant on the envelopes or boxes or whatever you put together--”

“Say what?” interrupted Ichigo.

“Think of it as an old-timey wax seal,” Yoruichi said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It'll seal whatever it is with some stuff that will be imbued with your reishi. It's done for top secret communication to ensure integrity of information and source identification. You'll be able to tell you're the one who sealed it and no one else has opened it. There's also the more complicated option of setting a reiatsu key so only the intended recipient-- you-- can open it. So your stuff could be private from Homura, too.”

“Yes, yes,” Kisuke said impatiently. He slapped his closed fan into his open palm. “My duty will be to amass and organize as much of the relevant data as possible. As a bonus, that will be enough to convince another me on its own.” He looked at Homura. “What is our deadline?”

“Approximately eight o'clock tomorrow morning, to be safe,” Homura answered curtly. “Walpurgisnacht descends around that time. My turnback point is roughly an hour afterward.”

“There are five recon teams in the Mitakihara area right now,” Tōshirō said with a frown. “What do we do about them? Do we warn them? Do we warn anyone?”

Kisuke frowned. “Telling the Thirteen Divisions about the time travel will cause unnecessary alarm and be too distracting to Twelfth. Dealing with them will slow us down. Really, we probably don't _have_ to warn them about Walpurgisnacht, either. Anything that happens in Mitakihara tomorrow will be undone, anyway.”

Tōshirō looked doubtful. “Even if it's to be undone, leaving them to be surprised by a massive enemy doesn't seem... ethical.”

Kisuke hummed and smacked his fan in his palm. “I'll contact Twelfth later. I'll give them an edited brief about the situation in exchange for more of their sensor data. It should give them time to warn the recon teams but not enough to really pick at the threads of the report, so to speak.” Tōshirō inclined his chin in acknowledgment. Kisuke turned to Homura. “While everyone else is writing to their past selves, your job is to write as much as possible about Walpurgisnacht, magical girls, and the Incubator as you can without even _hinting_ at time travel. If you know anything because of repeated experience, find a way to lie and explain it with something different. Got it?” Homura nodded seriously. “I'll send that off to Twelfth when you're done so they can stay busy playing with it, then I'll include a copy in our little time capsule.” He went quiet and stared into space, eyes unfocused as he thought through the many things they needed to do.

“Have any more marching orders for us, Kisuke?” Yoruichi asked when he didn't say anything for a minute.

Kisuke cocked his head to one side and frowned. “No.” He glanced around the room with hard eyes and smacked his fan on the table again. “Whatever you do to prepare, be back here by midnight. Dismissed!”

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Barring some unexpected disaster or loss of internet availability (so, also a disaster, I guess), I plan to post the next chapter on Friday. I got the plot road bump that was holding me up taken care of so I don't need to worry about a conflict anymore. :)


	30. NEUNUNDZWANZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As promised. :3
> 
> Sooo, some of the girls from Kazumi Magica appear in this chapter. Vague spoilers for the end of that manga ahoy. If you haven't read the manga, no worries. You don't need to know anything deeper about them than what I'm showing: They're magical girls who have been through hell, know about the Witch thing, and are persevering despite it.
> 
> The entire manga is online if you do want to read it. Beware broken powers doled out like Halloween candy hahahaha.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**NEUNUNDZWANZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Urahara Shop was closed for the day as it hosted a dozen people working on the strangest essay assignment ever. They staked out different parts of the shop. Ichigo, Uryū, Orihime, and Chad claimed a spare room so they could coordinate to figure out where they had all been in the jumble that was their life in a shared condo between two different colleges in a big city. Tessai, Jinta, and Ururu holed up in the stock room. Yoruichi had stalked down the hall after Kisuke as he returned to his lab. Isshin had retreated to the spare room that held Yuzu's body to write a sprawling tract in a spiral notebook.

Karin hadn't been able to bring herself to go back to that room, so she sat at the dining table with Homura and Tōshirō. Her Soul Gem was an interesting little centerpiece at their table-- everyone had insisted she leave it out where its status could be monitored so Orihime could be fetched to purify it if need be. It was bothersome. The jewel was pretty, but she didn't want to look at it. The Soul Gem felt like a curse now. She looked down at her paper but couldn't focus enough to write much, so she watched her friends. Homura was industriously typing on a laptop Kisuke had provided to her. The slight changes in her facial expressions as she typed particular passages was sufficiently distracting for awhile, but Karin got twitchy so she looked at Tōshirō. He was scowling at a notebook, sometimes scrawling things before glaring and scratching them out, other times looking deeply sad and tired. It was more depressing than watching Homura, so Karin watched Homura until she got too twitchy to sit still.

Karin abruptly stood. Her friends looked up at her in worried surprise. Tōshirō opened his mouth to say something, but Karin interrupted him and blurted, “Bathroom.” He shut his mouth so fast she wondered if he had literally bitten his tongue. The thought entertained her until she got to the bathroom. She didn't do anything there but shut the door and stare at a wall with the lights off. The dim, silent stillness and lack of worried glances burning against the back of her head calmed her. The lack of outside distraction allowed her mind to dwell on the memory of her sister's corpse strung up inside her own rib cage, though, so it was a wash.

Eventually, Homura came and knocked on the door to check on her. Karin scrubbed the tears from her face and followed her friend back to the dining room. Instead of approaching the table, she veered off into the kitchen with vague words about food that she immediately forgot. She stood in the kitchen and looked around blankly while scratching her ribs, not really sure why she had gone in there.

When Tessai walked in five minutes later, the drawers and cabinet doors were in disarray as Karin shuffled through a selection of utensils. Rather than startle, she slowly looked up at him and blinked owlishly. After a pause to make sure the knives were all still in their block, Tessai asked her what she was looking for.

Karin blinked some more, as though wondering the answer to the question herself, and looked back at the drawer. She held up a simple nutcracker-- two steel arms connected by a hinge. “Do you have walnuts?” she blurted. “I really want walnuts. I need to-- I want--” She faltered.

Tessai eyed her as he carefully began closing cabinets. “No need for the nutcracker. I have some shelled walnuts in a jar--”

“No!” Karin objected with a childish pout. “I wanna open them.”

“Why?”

Karin fidgeted, held the nutcracker lever up by one side and rocked it so she could watch the loose side clack back and forth like some novel invention. “Can't sit still. I gotta do something.”

Tōshirō wandered into the kitchen, concerned by her long absence. “Are you okay, Karin?”

Karin gave him a distantly offended look as she repeatedly opened and closed the nutcracker, c _lick-squeak-click-squeak-click-squeak_. “ _Tessai_ won't get me _walnuts_.” Her tone said _Can you believe the service in this place?!_ Karin used her free hand to reach across her chest and scratch her arm before rolling her shoulders. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin, her eyes dull and hollow.

“Uh, what?”

Her reply was flat and without inflection. “Tessai wants me to eat walnuts without shells but breaking shells is the fun part and I want to do it but he won't let me but I want to do it and you can't crack shells when walnuts are already shelled the shell is all gone how are you supposed to shell them?” _Click-squeak-click-squeak-click-squeak._

“Oh... kaaaay...?” Tōshirō looked at Tessai. Karin was oblivious to the silent conversation they had with furtive facial expressions that expressed concerns for her sanity, too distracted by the tool.

“We have a small amount of whole walnuts in the shop,” Tessai said slowly. “Why don't you go sit at the table while I get them? If you want more than we have, I'll send Jinta out to buy some.”

Karin put her nose up snobbily and wandered out of the kitchen with an airy “If you _would_ , Tessai.” Like a queen condescending to a servant.

Tōshirō and Tessai shared a glance. _What the hell?_

§ x § x §

_What the hell?_ Renji Abarai thought as his team reached the center of the bizarre house of mirrors they had entered upon detection of an anomaly in far northern Asunaro. Fighting their way through the maze that took distinctions between things like “walls and floors” or “up and down” as vague suggestions had been weird enough, but here they were in a cathedral completely made of stained glass and cracked mirrors. The icing on the cake was the demented living kaleidoscope monster of shifting stained glass on the other side of the chamber. Stranger still, it was getting its ass handed to it by girls in beribboned costumes.

“Uh, your orders, sir?” one of Renji's subordinates prompted when they had been standing in the same place for two minutes.

“Hold your positions,” Renji ordered distractedly. He had half thought Hitsugaya was out of his damn mind at the meeting-- or perhaps _hoped_ so-- but here were bona fide magical girls fighting a living nightmare before his very eyes. The lieutenant analyzed how the girls fought. They moved fluidly, anticipating one another's moves with the ease of frequent teamwork. He wasn't sure what the hell the bespectacled girl in white and indigo was doing wielding a big _book_ in battle, but something like kidō occasionally spewed from its pages so he decided to ignore the part of his brain that screamed it was the stupidest weapon ever. The orange-haired girl wearing an orange, white, and black equestrian outfit without jodhpurs was randomly da **r** ting in to kick the shit out of the m **o** nster with her spiked boots. Colored glas **s** would explode in all directions, leaving  metallic fr **a** mework behind. The two girls soon had the **m** onster reeling. Both leapt into the air above the Witch. The orange girl **u** nsheathed and expanded some ki **n** d of _magic fucking wan_ _ **d**_ from a scabbard on her thigh while the indigo girl snapped her book flat and slid the covers apart at the spine, whereupon they turned metallic and sharp and formed the weirdest double-headed polearm he had ever fucking seen. The two girls dove with a synchronized shout and pinned the Witch to the ground from two sides. Renji wondered what the point was until a previously unseen girl in a poofy white dress stood, braced herself, and leveled a large white staff at the monster. A wide, intense beam of white reiatsu obliterated the central mass of the Witch. The creature and the labyrinth immediately wobbled and faded.

Behind him, Renji heard the team's scientist mutter a long _whoaaa_. In his own head, he agreed: That had been a lieutenant-class attack. Something like standing near his friend Rukia while she practiced firing Sōren Sōkatsui-- the _Seventy-Third_ Way of Destruction.

What the hell. How were these girls so powerful?

The entire party warily watched the Grief Seed drift to the roof of the salon where they had found an anomaly. The girl in the poofy white dress pushed her long black hair behind her ears and knelt to retrieve the Grief Seed with a regretful expression. Little Miss Indigo noticed the shinigami and snapped into a defensive stance. Carrot-Top and Poofy reacted instantly, the former assuming her own defensive pose as the latter tucked the Grief Seed in her top while she retreated behind the other two girls and brought her big staff to bear once again.

The shinigami all remembered their briefing: _Some magical girls will aggressively defend their territory. Proceed with caution._

Everyone stood still as statues in the sunset, no one wanting to touch off a fight. Finally, Renji slowly raised his empty hands to his sides and firmly called out, “We don't want to fight you.”

Poofy managed to look worried, confused, and hopeful at the same time. Miss Indigo and Carrot-Top squinted suspiciously. Miss Indigo in particular had the sharp look of someone analyzing everything she saw in minute detail. “Who are you?” she snapped.

“Lieutenant Renji Abarai of the Sixth Division of the Thirteen Court Guard Divisions.” He nodded a respectful greeting.

“That means nothing to me,” Miss Indigo said coldly.

“We're shinigami.”

“Say _what_ now?” blurted Carrot-Top.

“Ehhhhhhhhh? Really?!” Poofy asked excitedly, red eyes wide with curiosity. “Shinigami are real?!”

“Yeah.” Renji drawled, his lips twitching as he was distinctly reminded of Orihime Inoue. “This is where I go all 'Whaaat, magical girls are real?' and we all stare dramatically as the episode ends, right?” He tipped his head westward and smirked. “We even have a sunset in the background.” Renji could _feel_ the confusion in his officers-- they hadn't spent as much time blending into the World of the Living as he had during the war. He had long felt that temporary assimilation would serve him well as time went by. Here he was, being proven right. Hell yeah.

Poofy burst into giggles. She dropped her staff-- which dissolved into white sparkles-- and clapped with delight. Carrot-Top and Miss Indigo looked torn between grimaces and affectionate eyerolls. Poofy clasped her hands behind her back and leaned forward playfully. “What'll happen in the next episode, Mister Shinigami?”

Renji noted that while her face was cheerful and warm, her eyes were watching him keenly and she stayed behind her friends. So she wasn't _completely_ naive. He approved. “Pretty sure we'll have a peaceful conversation about why us shinigami are here now when we haven't been before,” he answered with a shrug. “Talk about how we're here to figure things out and help you, that kind of stuff. Hopefully end with us being friends who work together to protect the people with no powers while we figure out how to stop Witches from appearing so girls like you don't have to fight.” Lure cast; would they bite? Did they know? The intel he read overnight said most magical girls didn't.

All three girls went utterly still. Poofy's face went carefully serious. Miss Indigo and Carrot-Top looked grim. The atmosphere on the roof became tense once more.

Miss Indigo scowled. “Do you even know where Witches come from?”

Renji crossed his arms over his chest. He was pretty sure they knew, but just to be sure.... “Yup. A magical girl from Mitakihara stumbled upon a shinigami and told him about Soul Gems, Grief Seeds, and Incubators.”

Hatred burned in Miss Indigo's reiatsu so fiercely it showed in her eyes. “You know about the Incubators? What they do to girls?”

“Yep.” He kept his face grim. “It's sick. The shinigami brass are _pissed_ that they've managed to sneak around messing with souls for so long.” Renji tilted his head. “The magical girl who provided our intel said most magical girls don't know where Witches really come from. How did you learn?”

“The hard way,” Carrot-Top said bitterly.

“There used to be seven of us,” Poofy said sadly.

Renji sighed and closed his eyes. “I see.”

“Why do shinigami care about the Incubators?” Miss Indigo demanded.

The lieutenant looked to her and let his frustration show. “We're guardians of human souls. We protect them from corrupted spirits and help them pass on. We should have stopped the things from messing with souls like they are. It's a failure we want to correct.”

“To save your wounded pride?” Miss Indigo said scathingly.

“To an extent, I guess,” Renji admitted. “For some more than others. For me, I just think it's sick. There was a mess south of here where a human ally of the shinigami lost one sister to a Witch and another sister to becoming a Witch. I knew the kids a bit and their brother is a good friend. It's personal for me.” His captain would probably censure him for being so frank, but he let his instincts lead him. The girls obviously had personal grudges against the Incubators. Putting himself on equal footing with them seemed the smart thing to do to get them to cooperate. “If there used to be seven of you... well, I'm guessing it's extra personal for you.” He waited, giving them a chance to respond, but they all just looked at him with the kind of thousand-yard stares he saw on the survivors of Hollow-hunting missions gone catastrophically wrong. Seen-your-buddies-torn-apart-and-eaten wrong. It was unsettling to see the expression on the faces of such young girls. Renji nodded slowly. “Sooo... how do you feel about stopping this Incubator thing?”

“We _tried_ ,” Orange-Top snapped, obviously frustrated. “They just sat back and waited for us to get tired and fail.”

Miss Indigo looked mournful. “As long as we have Soul Gems, we'll need to fight Witches and use the Incubator to keep from falling ourselves. Trying to defy that system from within caused a lot of insanity and death.”

Poofy had nothing to say, but she averted her eyes as her face fell into melancholy. She reached up and brushed one white-gloved hand against one of her silver jinglebell earrings like it was a sacred object.

Renji reached up and dug one finger under his bandanna to scratch his temple. “Well, no promises, but we have some people looking into ways of reversing the damage to Soul Gems without whatever that thing is.”

Shock. “What?! Really?! We tried that! What have they found?! Are you sure?! When will it work?!”

Renji held his hands up and waved them in a cautioning gesture. “Whoa, slow down. No promises. The scientists looking at Grief Seeds and Soul Gems have ideas, but nothing concrete yet. They're the most scarily smart shinigami around, though, and a magical girl is helping them. So cross your fingers, I guess.”

“Is it Mami?” Poofy asked hopefully. “Mami's from Mitakihara, and she's really helpful and nice! I bet she's helping!” She smiled and bounced expectantly.

Renji thought back to the intel dossiers. “Uh... Mami Tomoe?”

Poofy looked completely lost. “I dunno?”

Carrot-Top looked dismayed. “Kazumi, what are you on about? Who's Mami?”

Poofy-- Kazumi-- pouted cartoonishly. “Mami is the magical girl who saved meeeee.” She looked embarrassed for a moment, then laughed. “She had curly blond hair and wore yellow and made guns fall out of her hat and protected m- _me_ with ribbons and called her attacks in Italian and--”

“Oh. That one,” Carrot-Top said with a bit of dull surprise.

“ _She's so cool!_ ” Kazumi gushed. She turned to the shinigami with stars in her eyes. “Mami's the one helping, right? Right? I wanna help, too!”

Renji stared blankly, unsure how to proceed. Carefully? Dodge. “Uh, the name of the magical girl helping us is Homura Akemi.”

Kazumi mumbled a crestfallen, “Oh.”

Miss Indigo eyed the shinigami carefully. “You mentioned a Mami Tomoe, though. What of her?”

Dammit. Renji sighed. Deflection wasn't his strong suit. “The intel from Akemi listed a Mami Tomoe as killed in action. She was a curly-haired blonde. I dunno if we're talking about the same girl, though.”

Kazumi teared up and looked heartbroken. Renji really didn't know how to handle that.

Miss Indigo sighed and lowered her polearm, then let it dissolve entirely. Stepping to Kazumi's side as the girl began to cry, she looked back at the shinigami. “I'm Umika Misaki. This is Kazumi Subaru--” she squeezed Poofy's shoulder and was promptly wrapped in a hug-- “and this is Kaoru Maki.” Carrot-Top waved silently. Umika shared a significant glance with Kaoru, then turned back to the shinigami. “Let's continue this at our house instead of this rooftop. I think we're going to be talking a lot and we may as well be comfortable.”

“That's nice, yeah,” Renji said, scratching his head. “Your parents won't notice you talking to invisible people?”

“You're invisible?” Kaoru blurted. “But you're _right there!_ ”

Umika looked interested at that point, but let it slide. “Our parents are overseas. We manage.”

“If you're sure, yeah,” Renji reluctantly agreed. Their intel could be priceless. But the assignment.... He glanced at his team. They were tired from a day of patrolling and would have to strike camp soon anyway. “We'll have to report to our superiors before we go. We already lost one team to a Witch before we knew what they were; no use letting the commander think he's lost another.”

Umika inclined her head regally. “That is acceptable.”

Renji eyed the three girls, two hovering around and comforting the third, as he dug out his Soul Phone. Poor kids.

§ x § x §

Beady red eyes watched the encounter from atop a nearby apartment building. The creature's white ears flattened back like a displeased cat's as the magical girls led the shinigami across the rooftops.

§ x § x §

The sky outside the windows of Urahara Shop were brilliant orange. Homura was absently chewing one nail while editing her pseudo-text on all things magical girl. Tōshirō was tiredly copying his most acceptable rough draft of a long letter to his past self. Karin was completely absorbed in messing around with walnuts.

Tessai had sent Jinta out to buy a large quantity of the nuts when it became apparent that the repetitive task of cracking them, eating the insides, and making a pattern out of shells on the table was unexpectedly soothing for the girl. Karin had pulled her Soul Gem closer to her edge of the table and built an intricate design around it. She alternated shells between upright and upside-down, stacked some, and so on, making ever-widening rings around the Gem's golden pedestal. Homura and Tōshirō had long since come to tolerate the constant _squeak-CRACK_ of the nutcracker. They sat in wordless near-silence for a long time.

Out of the blue, Karin conversationally said, “I'm sorry I hit you, Homura. And I'm sorry I blew fire at you guys.” _squeak-CRACK_

Homura and Tōshirō froze and looked up at her as if they dreaded what they would see. Karin just kept calmly cracking and arranging walnuts, face mostly aloof. _squeak-CRACK_

“That wasn't _you_ ,” Tōshirō mumbled as he glanced away.

“Yes, it was. I even remember doing it. So I'm sorry.” _squeak-CRACK_

Tōshirō looked like he might protest again, but Homura spoke up. “We forgave you even before the labyrinth had collapsed.”

After a long pause, Karin murmured, “You two are good friends.” Said friends looked at her again, but she didn't take her dull eyes off her project. _squeak-CRACK_

An uncomfortable silence dragged on for a few minutes. Karin eventually took a deep breath and asked, “Homura. When you go back in time, everyone will be better, right?” _squeak-CRACK_

Homura blinked and looked up at her. “Yes.”

Karin looked like she was thinking about that answer. “Even if their souls were destroyed, they'll come back?”

“Yes.” Homura guiltily avoided eye contact. “Yuzu's soul will be just as it was on the March sixteenth you remember.”

Karin bit her lip, but still kept her eyes on the nutcracker. “W-will they remember any of it?” she asked in a wobbly voice.

Homura closed her eyes. “No. When I go back, it's as if nothing after that point had ever happened. I'm the only one who remembers anything.”

After a few shallow breaths, Karin whispered, “That's good.” _squeak-CRACK_

Homura looked sad. “Yes.”

They fell back into silence, Homura and Tōshirō reluctantly returning to their tasks when it seemed Karin had drifted off into her own little world again. Ten minutes later, Karin quietly said, “I'm really sorry about this.”

_squeak-crack-PING!_

Alarmed, Homura and Tōshirō looked up in time to see Karin's Soul Gem shatter in the nutcracker.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..........WITCH DATA..........  
>  ROSAMUND, the Glass Witch with a vengeful nature. She will never forgive the one who killed her beloved. She sees that person's face everywhere, though, so she will never forgive anyone. It is almost enough to distract her from blaming herself.
> 
> A/N: Uh, Merry Christmas?


	31. DREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews. I hope everyone had a restful week. Or at least a non-disastrous one.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x § 

**DREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

It took a moment for Homura's brain to push through shock and kick into gear. With a cry of dismay, she materialized her shield as quickly as she could and immediately froze time. Her first thought was to fetch Orihime with the time-stop intact, see if maybe the Gem could be repaired by her godlike power. Then she looked at Karin's face.

“ _I know what it feels like when it h-happens to you now.”_

Karin's eyes had already gone blank once again, but what caught Homura's attention was the expression on her face. The girl had apparently shattered her own Soul Gem while deliberately looking straight at Homura in expectation that her friend would try to save her. Karin's empty eyes bored into Homura from an expression of haunted pleading.

“ _She was better off that way.”_

Homura understood the implied request-- _let me die_ \-- but recoiled from it. She was overcome by white-hot rage-- how _dare_ Karin do this in front of her like this, knowing what she had seen? How it had hurt her? Homura wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her fiercely. But she reined herself in.

“ _B-but I tried to hurt everyone and Yu-yuzu-uu is d-dead and oh my_ God _she was_ inside _me oh my God!”_

Because really, she understood why Karin would make that decision. Homura momentarily put herself in Karin's place, imagined remembering a twisted version of herself so protective of Madoka that she dragged her corpse along into her nightmare world and--

Unbearable.

So Homura couldn't blame Karin for coming to this decision. Her anger left as suddenly as it had come, leaving behind exhaustion. She sat back and dully stared at her friend. After taking a minute to clear her head a bit and brace herself, she let time resume.

Tōshirō rose to his knees with a wordless shout as Karin's body slumped onto the table through the evaporating shards of her Soul Gem and scattered walnut shells in every direction. He hurried around the table, urgently calling Karin's name. Her body was doll-like when he lifted and turned her. Desperate, he looked at Homura and the shield on her arm. “Akemi! Stop time! Get Inoue!”

Sounds of alarm drifted into the room from various points in the shop as people registered the sudden disappearance of Karin's reiatsu. Homura stared numbly at Karin's slack face. “I tried. I was too late.”

“ _INOUE!_ ” Tōshirō roared as the sound of people running echoed through the building.

Orihime actually shoved Ichigo out of her way at the door as she engaged her Shun Shun Rikka at a run. The fairies streaked across the room and formed their glowing shield over Karin and Tōshirō. Nothing happened. A fairy chimed something sadly, causing Orihime to cry, “Keep trying!”

Kisuke entered the room, surveyed it with a glance, and locked onto Homura. “What happened?”

Homura blinked at him, still in shock. She slowly pointed at the abandoned nutcracker. There was no sign of Karin's Soul Gem. Kisuke's mouth turned down. Tessai put a hand over his face and slowly shook his head. Isshin ran into the room, calling his daughter's name. He pushed past his son, who had stopped in his tracks at the sight of his sister. Isshin knelt beside her as Orihime tearfully disengaged her fairies.

“What happened?” Isshin demanded breathlessly.

Tōshirō's mouth worked for several moments before he could stammer, “Karin-- she-- Soul Gem-- she-- s-suicide.”

Ichigo gasped behind him as Isshin covered his mouth and hunched tensely. Isshin took a few deep breaths and straightened. He held out shaking arms; Tōshirō shifted Karin's body into them. Isshin held her close and rocked her, breathing hard but otherwise too emotionally battered to express anything. In his head, he heard echoes of the conversation that morning-- _it was the right thing to do_ \-- and felt complicit in his daughter's suicide. It was one thing to say those words in abstract and an entirely different thing to hold his daughter's body after she sought the same end.

“This won't happen next time.”

Homura's voice rang clear in the silence. Attention turned to her. She was clenching her fists tightly, mouth drawn tight as she controlled her breathing and once again looked like she was facing a firing squad. “This won't happen next time,” she repeated. “She won't remember this, you won't remember this, and it won't happen next time. It _won't_.”

Kisuke was pretty sure she was trying to convince herself as well as them, but he held his tongue. He nodded curtly and looked around the room. “As sad as this is, we have to move forward with our tasks so we can ensure it doesn't happen in the next timeline.”

“ _What?!_ ” Ichigo snarled. “Just like that?! _'Your sister deliberately destroyed her own soul, please go finish your essay'_? Really?!”

“Cold,” Jinta muttered in agreement.

Isshin took a deep breath and gently stood. “I'll keep writing,” he croaked, then carried Karin's body down the hall gingerly as though every step made him ache.

Ichigo wavered uncertainly, angry and powerless. Chad gripped his shoulder and grounded him. “The best thing you can do to save her is continue the project,” Chad murmured. Ichigo covered his face, nodded jerkily, and staggered back toward the room the friends had been using to collaborate.

The others trickled back to where they had come from until only Kisuke, Tōshirō, and Homura were left in the room. Kisuke watched the grim-faced young warriors. Tōshirō avoided meeting their eyes as he had with everyone who had already left; Homura stared Kisuke straight in the eye with a look that balanced defiance and uncertainty-- as though she dared him to call her out for empty bravado.

He chose to comment on neither. “Miss Akemi, Captain Hitsugaya, have you completed your assignments?”

Tōshirō mumbled something and shuffled back to the table, subdued, then picked up his pen and began to write unsteadily. Homura nodded and answered, “I am satisfied with it for now. I presume you wish to review it before you forward it?”

“Indeed, I do,” Kisuke murmured. He watched the girl fetch the laptop and took it from her when she offered it; noted her suddenly hyper-formal carriage and distant manner and decided against prodding that armor. Instead, he murmured his thanks and suggested she rest. She ignored him and sat across from Tōshirō, hands neatly folded among the walnut shells on the tabletop. Kisuke very nearly felt dismissed from his own home. He discarded his brief dark amusement at her and retreated to his lab.

The shinigami and the magical girl sat without speaking for a long time, the scratching of Tōshirō's pen the only sound in the room as Homura sat still and bland as a statue. Brilliant sunset dimmed into twilight, but the whole building remained hushed.

“How do you do it?” Tōshirō suddenly asked Homura.

The magical girl blinked and took a moment to regain her bearings, having been quite lost in thought. “Do what?”

“She's my best friend,” Tōshirō said dully. He obviously meant Karin. “She died in front of me two times in two days and I just watched both times. I fought her twisted soul. We brought her back, but we still lost her.” He hesitantly turned his eyes toward Homura and searched her face. “How do you stand it?”

Homura tipped her head in question. Neither of them was sure whether or not she was being deliberately obtuse.

Tōshirō pursed his lips. “Seeing your friends die over and over. The same ones over and over. You think you've saved them then they die again. And you keep going on. Just twice is.... How do you bear it?”

Homura looked away from his haunted face. There were many answers she could give. That she distracted herself planning how to tweak the next timeline; that she lost herself in weapons heists and cheap takeout and physics and ballistics; that she made herself sleep at night by forcefully imagining one of her rare memories of a Good Day over and over until her consciousness faded. Instead, she quietly said, “I don't know.”

§ x § x §

Homura pulled herself upright around midnight, blearily realizing she had fallen asleep on the table. Across from her, Tōshirō tiredly ran his fingers around the edges of the letter he had written, though he didn't appear to be reading it. The others were gradually assembling with papers and notebooks; some carried small items in their hands. No one spoke. Everyone just sat or stood silently and listened to the rushing of wind in the eaves until Kisuke arrived with several packages.

The scientist looked around the room and nodded. “Let's get to work.”

It took a long time to seal everyone's letters and objects one at a time as most of them needed to be taught how to do it with their own power. Homura watched with mild interest. She wondered what significance some of the objects held but thought it would be rude to ask as even Kisuke spoke in a subdued, quiet murmur in the atmosphere of melancholy. The expressions on their faces as they relinquished cherished objects was enough to convince her that they had selected important things that would catch their past selves' attention. After several people took their turns, the process gained the solemn feel of a ritual.

It was nearly two in the morning when Kisuke finally sat back and looked at the stack of neat packages on the table. He was the only one to fill multiple packages, mostly with research. Everyone watched him with tired eyes. Kisuke turned to Homura. “You can store them now.”

Homura nodded once and materialized her shield on her arm. One by one, she carefully picked up packages and slipped them into the shield's mysterious interior as Kisuke watched with keenly interested eyes. When she was done, she looked up at the scientist and waited for him to explain the next step of his plan, if he had one.

The folded fan appeared in Kisuke's hand again. He lightly tapped it in one palm. “Now. Walpurgisnacht.”

Homura tensed. “Yes?”

“I read your little treatise. Well done, by the way. Anyway, I'm curious about how you phrased something.” Homura tilted her head inquisitively. “You wrote _'Walpurgisnacht is said to be a massive Witch associated with severe weather phenomena and natural disasters.'_ Can you elaborate on that for us?”

“Of course.” Homura relaxed, finding the question much easier to deal with than expected. She smoothed her skirt and organized her thoughts. “While the Incubator gave that vague description in an early timeline, I have found it to be invariably true. The Japan Meteorological Agency always reports a supercell bearing down on Mitakihara from the sea and orders evacuations to shelters around seven or seven thirty. Walpurgisnacht doesn't have a true barrier, but the supercell around her kind of acts like one. As the storm approaches, a parade of Familiars appears. It looks like a carnival. Then Walpurgisnacht descends and starts destroying things.”

Kisuke looked at the ceiling and scratched at the stubble on his chin. “When I submit the data to Twelfth, I'll suggest they monitor a fifty mile radius for coinciding spiritual and meteorological irregularities. Maybe they'll be able to intercept the Witch before it makes landfall.” He looked down as Homura opened her mouth to say something. “I know it will be undone when you go back, but it will be good to know if the Thirteen Divisions can pull that off. I'll stay in contact with them.” Homura blinked, shut her mouth, and nodded. Kisuke tapped his fan against the edge of the table thoughtfully. “I checked the weather before I came up. A lot of Japan is seeing storms of one kind or another developing. I'll write a script or something so I'll only get notifications for whatever happens near Mitakihara.”

After a long silence, Ichigo impatiently asked, “What do we do now?”

Kisuke sighed. “Try to get some rest, I suppose.”

Jinta scoffed. “Like that's gonna happen.”

§ x § x §

Renji woke to the shrill of his Soul Phone around four in the goddamn morning. He rolled over on one of the futons the magical girls had set out for his team in their living room and groggily took the call.

“Abarai. What.”

By four-thirty, Renji was completely awake and on edge.

He texted the two sentries he had set on third shift atop the roof and woke the rest of his team. Umika came downstairs in sleepy confusion as the shinigami gathered to be briefed. She looked to their leader and noticed the grim set of his face. “Is something wrong?”

Renji swiped a hand through his hair and sighed. “I think you had better get your friends down here. We got some weird intel about a Witch and I wanna see if any of you know something.”

Umika frowned but nodded and retreated up the stairs.

Everyone was finally alert and functional around five, drinking hot cocoa Kazumi had insistently shoved at them. Renji relayed what Twelfth had told him and turned to the magical girls, who all looked disturbed, and asked what they knew.

Umika frowned at the floor and slowly said, “I _know_ I've heard the name before....”

“Kyubey said it,” Kazumi blurted.

“Eh?”

Kazumi's eyes were wide and earnest. “I heard him. He said it. When he named Dawn of Hyades. He said something like 'Is that the legendary Walpurgisnacht?' and then said no.”

“And whaaat is Dawn of Hyades?” Renji asked.

The magical girls all shifted uncomfortably. Kaoru took a deep breath. “It's a long story, but the short version is there was someone who managed to fuse a bunch of Witches into one big one.”

“We beat it by combining our magic,” Umika added.

“Well, that's encouraging,” Renji muttered.

“You need to go protect people from this Walpurgis-Witch, right? Right?” Kazumi asked.

Renji raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, we're gonna rendezvous with the other teams and set up a defense.”

Kazumi made a determined face and clenched her fists enthusiastically. “We'll help!”

Surprised, Renji said, “What? No. You shouldn't have to fight anymore. You're kids.”

Kazumi pouted but Umika scowled. “Kids to you, but we've fought a huge Witch before. And my power could be useful.”

Renji skeptically drawled, “What's this great power?”

Kaoru smirked as Umika inclined her chin and said, “My magic book reads my opponents and tells me about them-- what they're focused on doing, motives-- sometimes their weaknesses.”

Renji stared for a minute, then sighed. That was just too damn useful to pass up. “Fine. Whatever. We need to get ready. The rendezvous is in an hour.”

Kazumi cheered, then stood and declared, “Let's make breakfast!”

“Uh, do we really have time...?” the team's scientist asked.

The cheerful girl laughed and threw her arms wide. “Of course! We'll work together to make it go faster and the food will give us plenty of energy for beating the big Witch! Cooking together makes us friends!”

Umika and Kaoru looked thoroughly amused at their friend's antics and the bewildered expressions on the faces of the shinigami.

§ x § x §

Sunday morning in Karakura dawned on a gloomy drizzle that steadily turned into a windy, bitter downpour. Homura sat on the back porch holding a cup of hot tea as she stared at the rain, stuck in a melancholy nostalgia. As badly as it had ended and as much hope as the future held, she would be sad to leave the people in this timeline. They would be the same people in the next timeline, yes, but they wouldn't know her, wouldn't have shared time with her and come to know her. That erasure of bonds was why she had learned to not branch out and make more friends in the various timelines-- it hurt to leave them behind and be the only one to know what they could have been.

Lost in thought, she startled when Isshin shuffled up and sat beside her. He offered her a pained smile, face wan with dark circles under his eyes. She wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't slept at all.

Isshin silently contemplated his own cup of tea for awhile. “It's almost seven,” he said quietly. Homura hummed acknowledgment but otherwise didn't respond. “I wanted to talk to you before you... go.”

Homura turned and eyed him cautiously. “What about?”

“I'm sorry.”

Surprised, Homura asked, “What for? I'm the one who--”

“No,” Isshin cut her off firmly. “I understand your actions. I don't blame you. I want to apologize for expecting you to take on a heavier burden when you go back. You've had so many problems with just your own circle of friends. You've been fighting a battle that should never have fallen to you in the first place. It's selfish of me to want you to intervene for my girls on top of that.” He gave a little self-deprecating laugh. “And yet, I still want you to do it.” He shook his head. “I'm sorry for that. If I could go back _with_ you, _for_ you... I'd do it in a heartbeat. You don't deserve any of this. And it must be terribly lonely.”

Homura looked stunned. Isshin searched her face and smiled sadly. He reached over and lay a hand on her shoulder. “For what it's worth, this 'me' thinks of you as an honorary Kurosaki. Hopefully, other 'me's will, too.” His lips quirked and he squeezed her shoulder. “You're my third honorary daughter, you know. My children seem to collect you for me under the strangest of circumstances. I can't complain.”

Homura tried to respond but was at a loss for words. Her vision blurred and she couldn't even swallow properly.

Isshin glanced over his shoulder at the sounds of the rest of the shop waking up and moving around. He turned back to Homura and lifted his hand from her shoulder to the side of her head. “Look at me. Listen to me, Homura. I might not get a chance to say this later.” She looked up at him. His eyes were fierce. “You are brave. You are strong. You are good. Never forget any of that. _Live_ that. Keep on spitting in the face of fear and despair. You'll get through this. You _will_. I believe in you. We _all_ believe in you. Got it?”

Homura took a deep breath and nodded, face determined. Isshin grinned sadly, ruffled her hair, and drew her into a one-armed hug as they both resumed watching the rain in silence.

§ x § x §

The various teams of shinigami stationed themselves at strategic points throughout Mitakihara proper, each just barely in view of the other. Three battle-ready magical girls stood beside Renji and searched the skies. It was a miserably wet and windy day. They all stood tense, waiting.

Waiting.

§ x § x §

A single pair of red eyes observed the shinigami from within the camouflage of construction scaffolding on a high rise condominium.

§ x § x § 

No one in Urahara Shop really knew what to do that morning. Tessai and Ururu made breakfast on autopilot. Everyone nibbled disinterestedly at their food, listening to the steadily worsening storm outside as they sat at the table tensely waiting for Kisuke's tablet to beep a notification about an evacuation order for Mitakihara. When nothing had happened by seven thirty, eyes started darting toward Homura. A sense of heaviness and dread pressed down on them.

At ten minutes to eight, Kisuke frowned and picked up the tablet. He tapped around its screen and frowned harder. “There are no severe weather warnings for Mitakihara. Stormy, yes, but nothing serious on radar.”

Homura's face twisted in confusion. “That's impossible.”

“Does Walpurgisnacht come in every timeline? In a storm every timeline?” asked Yoruichi.

“Yes. Always,” Homura said.

“What's different?” Kisuke asked tensely.

Surprised, Homura looked back to the scientist. “What?”

“What's different about this timeline? How does this timeline deviate from any you've experienced before?”

Homura thought for a moment and answered, “Karakura. I never went to Karakura before. I never even left Mitakihara before.” She looked down and thought. “But... Madoka has never died before today, either.”

Tessai rubbed his chin. “And Madoka was very powerful, correct?”

Homura nodded with pursed lips.

Yoruichi hummed unhappily and glanced at Kisuke and back. “How powerful?”

Biting her lip, Homura answered with deliberate vagueness. “It's hard to say for sure. It's been awhile since I really felt her fight.”

Kisuke's eyes narrowed. “You mentioned that she and you together were enough to defeat Walpurgisnacht in some timelines and that she beat it herself in at least one,” he pressed.

Homura shifted and glanced away. After a long pause, she quietly said, “There have been timelines when she contracted during the battle, killed Walpurgisnacht with one shot from her bow, and immediately turned into an even more powerful Witch.”

Everyone stared.

“Just how fucking powerful is she?!” demanded Jinta.

Homura shrugged and reluctantly answered, “Several times more powerful than me, when she gets in the right mindset.”

Everyone kept staring. They knew Homura was right around lieutenant-class when she was hardly even trying to defeat a low-level Hollow, elevated to a strong lieutenant-class combatant in a labyrinth. And none of them were foolish enough to think they had seen her go all-out.

Yoruichi leaned back and stared hard at the girl. “Madoka can one-shot Big, Bad, and Ugly as soon as she accesses her powers for the first time. Zero training. Zero experience.”

“Yes.”

“So she's the second coming of Ichigo,” Yoruichi concluded.

“God help us all,” muttered Uryū.

Before the entire conversation could derail, Tessai cleared his throat and asked, “Is it possible this Walpurgisnacht is only attracted to Mitakihara when Madoka is there? Like a Hollow looking for a strong soul to eat?”

Kisuke and Homura blinked and tilted their heads in eerily similar expressions of surprised thought.

“Now, there's an interesting hypothesis,” Kisuke murmured.

“I don't know,” Homura admitted after some thought. “It's a conglomeration of Witches and it behaves differently than other Witches.”

“You mean the labyr--”

Isshin cut himself off as everyone in the building shuddered at the sudden weight of a terrifyingly strong reiatsu.

“The hell is that?!” Ichigo shouted as Homura went stark white and scrambled for the back door. Heedless of the confusion behind her, she ran out into the storm in her stocking feet and searched the skies. Immediately drenched, she slogged her hair out of her face and ran around to the front of Urahara Shop. She slid to a stop in the mud at the gate.

Fluffy pink poodles the size of camels wore golden saddles and bore catlike riders while hauling circus wagons in a parade. Pink and green elephants trumpeted as they marched down the street pulling something along in the air by many dozens of carnival pennants. Stuffed animals cavorted in the low mist between their feet.

In the distance, an enormous shadow in the sky.

Walpurgisnacht had come to Karakura.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR?!?  
> D:  
> I swear Kazumi is that cheesy in canon. Also that her manga has a big thing with cooking and eating together before battles. I think it's a “let us eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we shall die” kind of thing.


	32. EINUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Reading everyone's theories about what's happening is SO FUN. Thank you for the lovely reviews. Here, have a toy.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x § 

**EINUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Homura stood transfixed in horror as Walpurgisnacht loomed in the distance. How?! Why was it here?!

More importantly, _why the hell did it feel more powerful than in every other timeline she had experienced?!_

She only became aware of the others catching up to her when Jinta yelled, “The _fuck_ is all this?!”

“Walpurgisnacht,” Homura whispered.

The others followed her gaze to the shadow in the sky. Its massive gears gradually became more distinct through the cloud cover.

“I thought it's supposed to hit Mitakihara?!” cried Orihime.

Homura swallowed. “It _is_.”

“Has it ever appeared elsewhere?” Kiskue asked tensely.

Shaking her head slowly, Homura answered, “Never. _Never_.”

“Does the thing follow _you_ instead of the other girl?” Jinta asked angrily.

Homura kept shaking her head. “I don't know. I don't know. This is wrong. It shouldn't be here. It shouldn't feel this powerful. It's all wrong.”

Many of the others eyed her sharply. “What do you mean it shouldn't feel this powerful?” asked Yoruichi.

“Just that,” said Homura. “It feels so much... heavier. Darker. Like... like there's so much _more_ of it than I've ever fought.”

“Fabulous,” droned Yoruichi.

“Our past selves will have to figure that one out,” Kisuke said firmly. “We have an hour to delay it until Miss Akemi can go back in time.” He used the seal on the end of his cane to abruptly shove Ichigo and Isshin out of their bodies and turned to the magical girl as they recovered without complaint. “Advice about how to fight it would be appreciated, Miss Akemi.”

Homura gathered her wits and stood upright. Her face went hard as she spoke. “The doll at the bottom can inflict damage, but the Witch's core is the biggest gear. It can blow fire, create wind, and levitate buildings to use as bludgeons. If it is threatened, it releases Familiars that look like silhouettes of magical girls. They can fly and attack in a lot of different ways.” She bit her lip. “But... be careful. It's behaving differently. I don't know if anything else will be different.”

The other **s** looked from her to Walp **u** rgisnacht, who was now close enough to see in mo **r** e detail. It looked like a floatin **g** set of gears above **a** nd below one **m** assive, spinning cog. A pole extended downwards from its center. Attached to the pole was a huge, upside-down doll-like figure that looked like a porcelain mannequin in a square-necked purple Tudor dress with a tight white corset and billowing purple skirts that parted around the cog and flared out to the Witch's sides. The top of the mannequ **i** n's hea **d** was sheared off just abov **e** where eyebrows should have bee **n** , leaving a flat **t** op. A divided henn **i** n was perched on the head behind its ears; an expansive veil wafte **d** about it in the gale. Its only facial f **e** ature was a mouth outlined in lurid red lipstick. An intricate mandala of **m** any shifting colors glowed faintly behind it.

Yoruichi smirked and cracked her knuckles. “Well, let's get to work!”

Homura transformed and pulled a grenade launcher from her shield. Tessai rolled his shoulders and planned what kidō to use where as he squinted at the Witch. Jinta and Ururu ran back to the shop to fetch their weapons. The others spoke tersely to one another and began to leap skyward.

Kisuke stepped forward and grabbed the shoulders of Orihime and Homura. “You two stay back.”

Orihime frowned but Homura was outraged. “Don't coddle me! I know how to fight!”

“I am well aware of that, Miss Akemi, and I do not doubt your prowess” Kisuke said evenly. “But the entire goal of this battle is for us to delay Walpurgisnacht until your turnback point. If you were to accidentally get caught in the crossfire of so many combatants at once... well. All will be lost, as they say.” Homura's mouth clicked shut. She could acknowledge logic, though she obviously still hated it. Kisuke turned to Orihime. “Go to the other side of town and find a good vantage point. I want Miss Akemi to observe the fight so she can report our performance to our other selves for improvement. Shield her if an attack gets past us. Her survival is our top priority. Don't stop to heal anyone even if they're dying-- they'll be fine in the next timeline. Focus _only_ on protecting Miss Akemi.” Orihime nodded her understanding.

Kisuke stepped past them, glanced back over his shoulder, and doffed his striped hat. “Meeting you has been very interesting, Miss Akemi,” he said with a wry grin. “I suppose I'll see you in the next life, as it were.” He jumped up to the rooftops before Homura could respond.

Homura pursed her lips and kicked a rock. The only time she ever sat out the fight against Walpurgisnacht was in the first timeline, before she had contracted. Not fighting it was surprisingly infuriating.

Orihime patted Homura's shoulder as she allowed her fairies to drift around them. “He means well.”

The magical girl grit her teeth and huffed. “I know.” It didn't stop her from resenting effectively being benched. Face dour, she shoved the grenade launcher back into her shield.

Orihime smiled sympathetically. She knew the feeling all too well. “Let's go.”

§ x § x §

Twelfth Division's Spirit Wave Measurement Lab was full of tired staff, all subdued but determined in the wake of their department head's death in the field. They worked industriously to sift data from the five recon parties as it came in while a select few struggled to salvage the damaged sensor Ukitake's team had recovered. Akon stood in for Rin, supervising the department's efforts straight through the night. He was nursing his fifth thermos of enhanced coffee when several of the department's alarms started blaring dire warnings all at the same time.

Akon startled and dropped his coffee but immediately caught it. Scientists scurried to their stations with a chaotic urgency akin to an anthill poked by a stick. When they started looking at screens and gasping, Akon shouted, “Hiyosu, status!”

Hiyosu looked at his superior over his shoulder, face pale and eyes bulging more than usual. “Massive Hollow-like reiatsu in Karakura. Wave forms appear to be extremely amplified Witch frequency.”

“Classification?” barked Akon.

Hiyosu glanced at his screen again and looked back to Akon in disbelief. “Well beyond Vasto Lorde Arrancar class.”

Akon's brows shot up to his hairline. He opened his mouth to speak, but looked around in confusion as the alarms stopped. Then an entirely different alarm started shrieking.

Before Akon could ask anything, Hiyosu numbly said, “On-site sensors are offline. Possibly fried. Wide-scale sensor data interpretation interface for Japan and Korean peninsula has frozen. Either it's exceeded our processing power or the script has a bug that cripples the program past a certain threshold we couldn't reach in beta. Possibly both.”

“This didn't happen during the Battle of Karakura back in the war,” Akon thought aloud. That had been the most intense gathering and slinging around of reiatsu since the Twelfth Division's computers had been invented.

“But we anticipated that event and streamlined--” Hiyosu perked up and turned toward the room at large to shout, “Shut down global sensor arrays! Shut down Soul Society arrays! Shut down Hueco Mundo arrays! Shut down Precipice World arrays! Keep Mitakihara mission data up! Leave only those arrays that include Karakura and Mitakihara! Shut down Soul Phone communications and monitoring outside Japan! I want every non-essential application killed _now!_ ”

Their lieutenant ghosted into the room and joined Akon in standing behind Hiyosu and watching him forcibly disconnect the Japan/Korea data stream, dig into the analytic program, and begin to reinsert exclusion scripts developed during the Winter War so he could try to restart the application and restore the link to incoming data without another crash.

Nemu evaluated everything with unassailable calm then left to notify her captain and issue a standby alert for captain-class fighters. Karakura's regular defenders would likely need backup.

§ x § x §

The fighters arrayed themselves in a battlefront directly in Walpurgisnacht's path. They had barely settled on positions when a short girl with her blond hair in rough pigtails wearing a red tracksuit with a sword slung across her back appeared next to Kisuke in a burst of shunpo.

“Why, hello, Hiyori,” Kisuke said mildly.

“Don't give me that, Baldy,” she snarled. “What the hell is going on?!”

“We seem to be having a bit of a crisis.”

“ _No shit_.” She aimed a jump kick at him. He dodged. “What did you do this time?!”

Kisuke turned to look at her with a fake pout, noting the other Visored who had chosen to stay in the World of the Living behind her. Of course they would notice something like this. “Why do you assume this is my fault?”

“You're the resident mad scientist. It's either you or Ichigo, the resident trouble-magnet. You have a longer history of bullshit and we felt some kind of Hollow clusterfuck at your place on Friday.”

Kisuke gave a little laugh. “Believe it or not, it's neither of us this time.”

“Bullshit.”

“There's no time to explain.” He pitched his voice loud enough for Lisa, Love, and Hachi to hear. “The monster can blow fire, make wind, and levitate buildings to use as weapons. The biggest cog is the heart of the monster. It can break off minions to act independently. We need to kill it or keep it occupied for an hour or so.”

“What happens in an hour?” asked Lisa.

Kisuke scratched his cheek. “Ah, let's say our secret weapon will be ready then.”

“'Let's say',” Lisa droned skeptically.

“No time to explain!” Kisuke shouted as he dodged a carnival pennant that shot past his head.

Lisa sighed deeply and drew her blade.

“Ranged attacks on the gears!” Kisuke shouted as he raised his hands and started chain-casting kidō.

The sky lit up as a volley of attacks converged on Walpurgisnacht. They impacted in a series of explosions that continued as the defenders repeated their attacks until their fallout completely obscured the Witch. The debris and incoming attacks were abruptly scattered by a gout of multicolored fire as the doll portion opened its mouth and began to laugh in an eerily distorted woman's voice. It blew a jet of flame at the line of defense, which was deflected by overlapping Dankū shields courtesy of Tessai, Hachi, and Kisuke. While they were distracted, Walpurgisnacht emanated a whirlwind and snapped off the top halves of downtown Karakura's high-rises with frightening ease. It levitated them and their flaming debris around it as a defense and lobbed one massive construct of steel, concrete, and glass at the defenders horizontally. The defenders were forced to scatter with various forms of flash step as the improvised weapon fell and crushed three entire city blocks.

Tessai flared his reiatsu several times in quick succession to draw the defenders' attention to him. He made arm signals which Kisuke, his longtime friend, and Hachi, his former lieutenant from the kidō Corps, recognized. They all cast the Ninety-First Way of Destruction: Senjū Kōten Taihō from three different directions. Walpurgisnacht was enveloped in a brilliant pink explosion.

The squinting defenders were taken by surprise as broad beams of purple reiatsu lanced out from the pink light. Several of them were hit by beams and sent flying. The beams fragmented and formed reishi constructs shaped like faceless magical girls. The living silhouettes were an ever-shifting mass of a purple and pink nebula pattern studded with stars. Gleeful giggles emanated from them from the moment they took shape and began to spin and dance.

The Familiars swarmed around each combatant. Some bore shadowy weapons; others held magic wands and shot beams of the same purple energy they were made of. Melee battle quickly got messy, looking more like an air war dogfight than close combat. The Familiars were fiendishly fast, flickering from place to place with a carefree, mocking grace that soon began to grate on the defenders. The giggling shadows coordinated their attacks, those with weapons rushing in to force defenders to block so those with magic wands could take potshots at them while they were busy. The defender would then be forced to dodge, often taking minor damage while unable to inflict much in return.

Yoruichi, “Goddess of Flash,” had no such trouble, though. She kept pace with the Familiars and matched them move for move as she fought using only her body as a weapon. Shadow after giggling shadow fell by her hand, swift punches and kicks popping them like soap bubbles and leaving a trail of purple glitter behind her. Seeing Yoruichi's success, Ururu chose to hold her shoulder-cannon in reserve and fight with powerful blows from her limbs with the occasional use of the cannon as a bludgeon. Likewise, Chad was managing to punch through the Familiars that ventured close to him to try the same pincer tactic with his Brazo Izquierdo del Diablo while blocking attacks from the wand-wielding Familiars with the shield form of his Brazo Derecho del Gigante. He was mostly able to dodge the various blades and polearms as he sought openings to punch the Familiars on attack, but steadily began to collect wounds from those few attacks that got through.

Tōshirō scowled, released his zanpakutō into its shikai state, and started slinging flocks of icicles in wide arcs around him as he darted through the sky. Effectively stabbed about a dozen times each, the Familiars caught in his attacks burst apart into purple glitter. Ichigo and Isshin released their own blades and lobbed their respective Getsuga Tenshō attacks at the Familiars that swarmed after them. Kisuke, Tessai, and Hachi developed a routine of casting Hyapporankan into the giggling mobs to immobilize them then follow up with devastating destructive kidō.

Uryū had been constantly on the move, unable to take the time to prepare more than simple single-arrow attacks among the chaos-- archers really had no business being in the thick of things. He hit nearly all his targets once he grew accustomed to their movements and never failed to negate the magic wand beam attacks when directed at him, but he had little effect on the overall battle apart from some... unique results when he did land a direct hit. No one else had really noticed in the heat of battle, but Uryū's mind was racing with ideas.

Just as the horde seemed to thin out a bit, Walpurgisnacht changed its behavior. It hovered in place, rotated on its axis in the center of its ring of floating wreckage and fire, and switched out its creepy laughter for singing scales like a ghostly soprano. A thrum of power passed through the sparkling haze of purple glitter, which re-condensed back into the giggling magical girl silhouettes they had been before their defeat.

Uryū wasn't sure who it was who snarled “son of a _bitch_ ” at high volume, but he agreed with the sentiment as Walpurgisnacht's unhinged laughter returned.

However, the regrouping of the Familiars allowed him the moment to do something he had been trying to set up for what felt like forever. Uryū drew back his bowstring, paused for a moment to gather extra reishi, and loosed a small volley of Licht Regen arrows as a test, tightly controlled so they wouldn't hit his allies. The blue-white projectiles impacted the formation of the Familiars. Those that suffered direct hits to the torso were consumed in white embers like tissue paper in a flame. Nothing was left behind-- not even the purple, glitter-like reishi.

That was surprising enough for Karakura's defenders, though it made sense considering Quincy powers. Then Hiyori made her enraged return to the battlefield.

Having been flung all the way out of town by the initial salvo and stunned against a tall building, Hiyori returned beyond furious and charged into the fray with her blade already released into its serrated cleaver form as the reconstituted Familiars attacked. She started hacking Familiars in half without bothering to keep her distance or even really defend herself, uncaring of the injuries she sustained in her blind charge. Each of the bisected shadows broke into purple sparkles, but the little clouds immediately drew to a central point where the shadow-girls's hearts would have been, changed colors, and coalesced into egg-shaped gemstones that immediately hatched and set Hell Butterflies free to drift heavenward. Kisuke saw it amid the renewed chaos and actually missed a step in his shock, losing his hat, an ear, and an inch of his shoulder to a giggling shadow. Hiyori, unaware of the significance of the result and further provoked by incessant giggling, kept hacking until Walpurgisnacht's mannequin head turned and blew a gout of fire at her. She had sense enough to retreat from that, at least.

Uryū saw a chance. He drew another Heilig Pfeil and shouted, “Kurosaki!” as he aimed at Walpurgisnacht's head through the mob.

Ichigo appeared at his side immediately. Quick on the uptake, his eyes darted between the bow, the Familiars, and the doll and said, “I take it I'm going in when you shoot?” He wiped out the first wave of giggling shadows that rushed their way with a Getsuga Tenshō.

“Go bankai and follow right behind my arrows,” Uryū barked. “See if you can take the head off that thing and stop the fire and replacements!” He amassed more energy into his Heilig Pfeil.

Ichigo nodded grimly and raised his sword arm. He braced it with his free hand and incanted, “Bankai. Tensa Zangetsu.” Blue reiatsu flared around him and bled into a blackness that glowed red. When the light cleared, Ichigo's loose kosode had become a snug cloak that flared out behind him and his wide black blade had narrowed. He crouched in a starting position. “Ready.”

Uryū immediately loosed a wider barrage of arrows. Ichigo used the enhanced speed of his bankai to chase in their wake as they eliminated the Familiars between him and the Witch. Walpurgisnacht's head turned and blasted multicolored flames at Ichigo, but he just flared his reiatsu and charged straight through the blaze. He emerged on the other side singed but intact, already charging his blade with a Getsuga Tenshō. Ichigo roared as he wound up and lopped off the mannequin's head with a single slash.

The laughing stopped.

§ x § x §

Homura followed in Orihime's footsteps as she led them west, first running then taking to the rooftops. Karakura was eerily still even for a stormy Sunday morning. Homura was disturbed to find most humans they encountered unconscious. It was as though everyone had simply dropped in place, some causing minor traffic accidents, more littering the sidewalks with bodies and umbrellas, others sprawled across cafe tables. They ran into a conscious person every couple blocks, but they were often lone children. Teenagers seemed very drowsy and weighed down and little children sat by their parents and cried in confusion. Orihime looked distraught about running right past them, but pass them she did.

“What happened to them all?” Homura called over to Orihime.

Orihime looked surprised that Homura didn't know. “That Witch's reiatsu is too dense for most souls to stand. Even stronger souls like those in Karakura. The ones who are awake are strong enough to resist it.”

“Ah.”

“Orihime! Is that you?!”

Both running girls glanced down at the street. A dark-haired girl in a karate gi was leaning against the doorway of a dojo looking a bit ill.

“Ah! Sorry, Tatsuki, I'm busyyy!” Orihime shouted. She kept running, so Homura did as well.

Tatsuki followed along in the street until she was more surefooted, then joined them on the rooftops. She kept up with them but it obviously took great effort for her to use her reiatsu to propel her through jumps. Homura gauged that she had powers, just not on the high end of the scale like most of the people she had met in Karakura. The young woman didn't bother saying anything until Orihime had them skid to a stop on a five-story office building in Naruki City. After taking a minute to breathe, Tatsuki turned to look east for the first time. She stared in disbelief. “Dammit, Hime, who did Ichigo piss off this time?!”

“It's not his fault!”

“That's what you always say! He's always in it up to his eyeballs!”

“No, Tatsuki, really-- it's not his fault!”

“ _Sure_.”

Homura gasped. The older girls turned to her. She was watching the distant battle with military-grade binoculars.

Tatsuki was certain she hadn't had those a minute ago. “Where'd you get those?!”

Orihime quickly added, “Do you have more?”

Homura shifted and held her binoculars in her left hand and used her right to reach into her shield and pull out a second pair and blindly hold them out in Orihime's general direction.

Tatsuki stood by and sourly looked between the battle and the two spectators. She didn't know why Orihime was tensely explaining the abilities of shinigami and allies, but it seemed pretty important. Then there was a bright pink flash like a bomb going off and the distinct sound of many windows shattering as the sound caught up with the light. Tatsuki sighed. “Is there even going to be enough of this town left for the shinigami to cover up?”

The girls ignored her and continued to mutter questions and answers at one another as they watched. After awhile, a shockwave of Walpurgisnacht's heavy reiatsu hit them. Homura braced herself and kept watching.

“You didn't say it could revive the little ones,” Orihime said worriedly.

Gaping, Homura said, “It's... it's never done that before.”

“Oh,” Orihime squeaked.

A bit later, both cried out in surprise.

“What?!” Homura gasped. “What?! Are those--?! Are those--?!”

Orihime fiddled with the focus on her binoculars. “Butterflies?!” she finished in confused shock. “Like... like when....” She lowered her binoculars and looked at Homura with wide eyes. “Like when shinigami purify Hollows. With their zanpakutō. Their souls.... Oh my God.” Tremulous hope brightened her features. “Homura--!”

Homura's mouth opened and closed. She was stunned speechless.

There was a way to snatch the souls of magical girls back before the Incubator could consume them.

Her mind couldn't focus on one idea for more than a second, racing and trying to apply the new knowledge to various scenarios. Orihime resumed her pose with the binoculars, explaining things again with more cheer. Tatsuki had no idea what was going on, but if Orihime had shifted gears, something good must have happened.

“Oh! Ichigo and Uryū are going to work together!” Orihime gushed happily.

A moment later, both spectators made sounds of happy surprise. For one breathless second they saw the potential for an actual defeat of Walpurgisnacht-- if a shinigami could get close enough to behead such a crucial portion of the Witch's offense, surely they could handle the rest!

Then they cried out in horror as everything went to hell.

§ x § x §

Walpurgisnacht's severed head fell from its shoulders and was consumed by the black flames of Ichigo's Getsuga Tenshō. Ichigo regained his footing and was about to lunge for the mannequin's supporting pole when its neck exploded in multicolored flames and wide beams of starry purple reiatsu. The force of the blast threw Ichigo down into and through the roof of his old high school. Walpurgisnacht's laughter was replaced by unholy shrieking as Ichigo jumped out of the rubble and wobbled to a fallback position to get his bearings. A multitude of carnival pennants shot out from the raw neck wound and stabbed into all of the Familiars. Rainbow flames and purple reiatsu raced along their strings and enveloped each Familiar in shifting light that burst away to reveal dozens upon dozens of Witch sigils. They were so dense that all of the defenders were caught in a different sigil.

“What the shit, Urahara?!” Hiyori shrieked.

There was no time to answer. Those who knew about Witches had a moment to dread what would follow before they all disappeared from the battlefield.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: All of the natural breaks in narration lately have been cliffhangers. Sorry about that. We're at the climax of the first arc, so it comes with the territory, I guess.
> 
> Don't be surprised if it's another two weeks before I update. The last two weeks of January are expected to be exhaustively busy at work. If I survive, you'll get more hopefully-not-terrible fight scenes. ;)


	33. ZWEIUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OMG, work made my brain so tired that I forgot to put the newest chapter up here when I put it on FFn. I'm sorry! @_@
> 
> Your reviews and theories bring me such delight. Thank you.
> 
> The Witches in the next couple chapters are a mix of anime canon, Kazumi canon, and my own creations. Some of the labyrinths from anime canon are fleshed out from watching videos of the Battle Pentagram PMMM video game on YouTube. This is especially true of Elsa Maria, for whom I took extra liberties on top of what was done in the game.
> 
> Bleach fans who haven't seen PMMM: If you want to see what some of the Witches and labyrinths look like, Google these terms for YouTube videos:  
> “All Witch Battles (Madoka Magica Movie) Part 1”  
> “All Witch Battles (Madoka Magica Movie) Part 2” (you can stop watching after the black and white Witch)  
> “Madoka Magica ☆ The Battle Pentagram - Ch.12 Day 25 ~ 26” (skip to 16:00 on the first result for Elsa Maria's labyrinth & fight)
> 
> If you've read this far, you have been completely spoiled for all the plot developments in those videos.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ZWEIUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

One second Jinta was in the air over Karakura; the next, he found himself floating upside-down in so **m** e kind of giant snow globe with car **o** usels stacked on top of one another re **v** olving around the outer edge, each p **i** xelized horse b **e** aring a TV screen **wi** th a test pat **t** ern and illegible pixel s **c** ript. T **h** e water glo **w** ed with a so **o** thing blue light that **r** eminded him of the g **l** ow of a TV screen at night. Bubbles rose upwar **d** s as sn **o** w ge **n** tly drift **e** d down **.** At first he only heard dainty **music** , but then girlish laughter rang out above him **.** Looking up, he saw a flock of cut-out etc **h** i **n** g prints of artists' reference dolls **e** ach with a single ange **l** wing and a ha **l** o. Some of them had TVs where the **y** should have had heads **.** They were all fluttering around a big CRT computer monitor that had long, blac **k** , cartoonish pigtails on its s **i** des. It seemed to use the long hai **r** as wings or flipper **s**. Images flickered on i **t** s scre **en**.

Alone with a Witch and its Familiars, Jinta summed up his situation with a low, “Shiiiiiiiiiiiit.”

He immediately wondered why the hell he could breathe underwater. Or was he really underwater? It both did and did not feel like when he went in a swimming pool-- he was buoyant, but there was no water resistance when he moved. _Whatever_. Things needed smashing and he was good at smashing things.

As he wound up to swing at the first of the winged Familiars that dove at him, the screens of all the carousel horses flickered and changed from a test pattern to looping video of many of his memories of Yuzu and Karin. There were occasional images of happy times, but they only served to make all the rest of the screens featuring his newest memories worse in contrast.

Yuzu laughing. Yuzu laying dead on the shop's table. Karin smirking. Karin screaming and screaming and screaming while clawing at her scalp. The pile of clubs and baseball items from Karin's labyrinth. Karin's Witch. Yuzu eagerly listening to him recount a baseball game. Yuzu's corpse strung up inside Karin's Witch. Yuzu's body falling, falling, endlessly falling. Karin laying dead in her father's arms. Yuzu laying dead on a futon like a sleeping princess. Karin looking at the room of people listening to Homura from her father's lap, face haggard and eyes hollow. Karin gleefully needling him over something or other. Karin lying dead among walnut shells. Yuzu smiling at him while holding groceries. Yuzu dead. Yuzu dead. Yuzu dead.

It was traumatic, yes. It made him feel uncomfortably guilty and frustrated and inadequate. But Jinta reacted as he reacted to many threatening things that got past his armor of bravado: An enraged thirst to beat the hell out of anything available overtook him. And there were a lot of things available.

More of the doll-like Familiars the size of grown men jerkily crawled out from behind the carousel borders and bubbled out of the Witch's monitor. Jinta grit his teeth and jumped up to meet them, his first swing knocking limbs and heads off various minions. They kept attacking him and trying to grab him with greedy hands until he had managed to completely break them apart. Another wave of dolls rushed him as he tried to angle himself for the Witch. As he was countering them, the big computer monitor drifted down past him while laughing at him with the tinniness of a recording being played from a phone.

Fucking _laughed at him_.

Jinta flared his reiatsu as high as it would go, his power bowling over the jointed dolls, and used shunpo to get to the side of the labyrinth. He bashed in the screen on one of the carousel horses without looking at it, keenly following the Witch with his eyes as two of its winged Familiars held it on opposite sides and pulled it back up toward the top of the snow globe in a spiral while it chimed with laughter. Jinta snarled, kicked off from the carousel at an upward angle, turned like a swimmer as he crossed the entire labyrinth, landed hard against another carousel layer, and rebounded upward at high velocity. The crunch of glass and plastic as his iron club smashed into the Witch and the Witch rocketed into the opposite wall was viscerally satisfying.

The Witch wobbled away from the carousel wall in dizzy circles and bled a color test pattern as the dolls that had been carrying it turned on Jinta. He dispatched them easily, doll parts flying in every direction. The Witch's monitor sizzled and arced then spewed more Familiars. After brutally dissembling them, Jinta saw one of their heads floating in a perfect position; he instinctively swung at it like it was an oversized baseball and sent it careening into the Witch's broken screen-- and straight out its back in a shower of plastic, glass, and color test-patterned blood. Jinta leapt down and nailed the monitor with one last mighty swing. It crashed into a carousel horse and shattered completely.

Jinta stood and panted as the carousel collapsed around him, uncaring of the Grief Seed that floated where the Witch had been.

§ x § x §

“What the flyi **n** g fuck?” Hiyor **i** wondered aloud as she **g** lared and suspiciously inspected **h** er surroundings.

She defini **t** ely wasn't in the skies above Karakura any **m** ore. The floor w **a** s pu **r** ple and lav **e** nder checker **b** oard tile. The sky was **a** washed-out pink strung with gar **l** ands of paper snowf **l** ake cutouts and curly ribbons that didn't s **e** em to be fas **t** ened to anything **.** Old-fashioned zoo cages with vertical bars were scattered around, each made of white wrought iron and supporting a pedestal above it. In the distance the **r** e was a broad circus r **i** ngmaster's dais made ou **t** of a similar cage. A **t** op it was th **e** most bizar **r** e creature Hiyori had eve **r** seen-- and that incl **u** ded the new high bar her standards of weirdness had reached during the battle **s** o far. It was like some kid had mashed things **t** ogether to make something vag **u** ely doll-like. Its head was a gia **n** t whistle decorated in fili **g** ree, the mouth end positioned as a snout. Hiyori wasn't sure what the hell its rabbit-like ears were made of, but they reminded her of two zipper-pull tabs stuck on the sides of the whistle. The main body looked like a poofy la **v** ender b **o** dice and sleeves; o **n** e arm ended in a large hand and the other tapered off into a whip with a weighted flail at the end. The torso ended in ruffles at a structure that took t **h** e term “cage crinoline” literally, a series of curved vertical bars resembling a wide-skirted dress while forming an enclosure for som **e** thing small shivering inside it. There were more r **u** ffles at its base and the who **l** e thing wa **s** perched on a pair of st **u** bby legs that ended in catlike paw **s**. All told, it didn't look particularly thr **e** atening. It was more ugly-cute than anything. Something Hiyori could see Mashiro buy and call art to make Rose and Kensei twitch.

“Where the hell am I.” Hiyori looked around listlessly. “So, what, am I supposed wreck this place? Is there even anything here? Can I just get the hell out? What the hell.” She scowled harder. “If this is Urahara's idea of a prank I'll ram my shoe down his throat. Ass.”

Seeing nothing else to do and thinking of the weird giant doll-thing... “outside”? … Hiyori sighed in aggravation and started marching for the strange creature that emanated the most Hollow-like reiatsu. “Can I leave if I chop you to bits?” she wondered aloud.

The creature startled as though frightened by her words and shrilled its whistle while cracking its whip. Purple cats appeared from every direction, walking out from behind things that should have been far too narrow to conceal them. They were cute but had no mouths.

Hiyori had zero patience left. No way was she going to wade through a sea of cats to do anything. The small Visored willed her Hollow mask into existence, charged a red Cero, and launched it at the weird construct. Its torso blew apart, whistle and whip and frills flying every which way.

The cats were very unhappy about this. They looked at Hiyori with slit eyes, opened previously unseen mouths, and yowled at her as one. Oh, hey, they _did_ have mouths. Hiyori just hadn't expected them to be placed vertically in the centers of their foreheads running up to the tops of their heads and filled with shark teeth. _Nope_.

Hiyori lost track of time in the ensuing brawl, her world consumed by fur and claws and teeth as she hacked at the unending feline swarm. It was surprisingly difficult to fend off the tiny army. Every time she destroyed three, five more would shred into her clothes and skin. She could feel blood running down her back and legs from the abuse her back took-- she couldn't swing her damn sword at her own back so the little bastards really laid into it. Flaring her reiatsu gave her a brief respite by blowing the cats away from her, but they pounced right back even angrier than before.

So here she had gone from some poorly-understood but epic battle to getting mauled by a herd of fluffy house cats. _Mauled by cats_. Hiyori could _hear_ Shinji's mocking laughter in her head.

Hiyori roared and turned to the remains of the whistle-creature. From what she could see between the constant shifting of furry bodies attacking her, the whole thing had fallen apart and revealed the little creature she had seen huddled within the cage: A cartoonishly cute purple bunny. The structure around the bunny had summoned the cats. It would make sense for the bunny to be related, too, especially since the cats were herding her away from it.

That bunny was dead meat.

Hiyori kicked, slashed, and screamed her way through the cat army. When she got close, she flared her reiatsu to blow the cats back and darted up to the bunny, which quivered and cringed and looked up at her with tearfully terrified doe eyes. It was too frightened to move.

Hiyori sneered and cleaved it in two.

§ x § x §

Tōshirō frowned at the la **b** yrinth around him, hazy gray shapes shifting in the **l** ight filtering thr **o** ugh the fr **o** ste **d** glass panels of the many overlapping, colorless rose window frames that surrounded him. The shinigami glanced at his sword arm and found that despite the a **p** parent diffused light he was in such deeply b **l** ack shadow that only the faint glow of his own reiats **u** gave his form any definition. He looked up. And up, and up, and up. **S** loping, softly glowing white paths decorated with artfully swirling white briar patches trailed upward, interspersed with grand white marble staircases that floated in the air unsupported. The rose window walls, if they could be called such, were constantly drifting and rotating in different directions, forms twisting like tree branches and adding to the uneasy atmosphere. Upon closer scrutiny, the upwar **d** path seemed to w **i** nd around a large, cur **v** ed white structure. F **a** r, far up, there wa **s** a horizontal extension that ended with a red glow, the only independent color he had seen yet in this monochrome world. Tōshirō stretched out his **s** enses; the H **o** llow-like reiatsu felt stro **n** gest there, too. That was probably where he was supposed to **g** o, then.

While Tōshirō urgently wanted to get back to the battle outside, he forced himself to remain cautious-- his past experience had taught him brutal lessons about rushing into battle without forethought. So he began to carefully ascend the path. This labyrinth had the intrinsically _big_ feel characteristic of cathedrals. A combination of the imagery, the sudden jarring change of scenery, and knowing he had essentially been dragged into some girl's nightmare made his skin crawl. Like he was intruding somewhere sacred. Like fighting his way out would be desecration. Somehow, fighting Witches was infinitely more disturbing than fighting Hollows he knew had also started out as plain souls. He knew from Karin's labyrinth how deeply personal they could be. Whether or not he understood the significance of what he saw, Tōshirō knew he was touring a soul laid bare. As a private person himself, the thought appalled him.

He could see vague movement along the path above, dark shapes shifting as though on patrol. It was a long path that would take a while to fight his way through. Frowning, Tōshirō thought to his zanpakutō spirit, _I want to do this as quickly as possible. Bankai and fly up? It's wide open... I think._ He couldn't look up for too long as there was a bright white light shining from the distant apex of the labyrinth.

Hyōrinmaru shifted in unease deep in Tōshirō's soul. _It seems too easy._

Tōshirō hummed unhappy agreement. _I want to try. We'll just have to be careful and fall back to the path if necessary._

The dragon rumbled and rose to the surface of Tōshirō's soul.

“Bankai. Daiguren Hyōrinmaru.”

Ice burst into existence from the shinigami's back. Wide dragon wings made of ice unfurled around Tōshirō. He looked like he had an ice sculpture of an Eastern dragon wrapped around him protectively, a long tail trailing down from the wings, ice flowing down his right arm and ending in a dragon's face over his hand creating the illusion of the dragon holding the sword in its teeth. His feet and free hand were clad in icy armor shaped like dragon claws. Tōshirō glowed with the blue-white light of his reiatsu, his ice shining past the shadows he had been engulfed in.

Tōshirō gave a great flap of his wings and launched himself skyward. He flew around the central paths in a wide circle, spiraling up the labyrinth while wary for attack. The briar patches on the main path seemed to get larger and wilder as he ascended. When he judged he was halfway up, he began to see the white briars develop into actual trees. He soon encountered sprawling, jagged branches. With a swing of his sword, he shot a dragon construct made of ice at the branches above him. He managed to get through the first barrier, but as he prepared to destroy the next set of dense branches, they came alive and shot toward him with rapid, jerky growth. Tōshirō wrapped his wings around him and let the sharp branches hit and shatter themselves, then opened his wings and released a wide arc of ice before him to meet a third wave of branches. Once frozen solid, Tōshirō lashed out with Hyōrinmaru's tail and smashed them.

So he progressed, fighting for every inch of ascent, trying to only spend time fighting those branches directly in his path. It came as a complete surprise when branches he had passed reversed direction and shot at his back. The dragon armor protected his spine and vital organs, but his sides and legs were pierced through many times. Hyōrinmaru roared in fury in Tōshirō's head as they harshly snapped their wings up and down to break off the branches. More branches closed in from all sides; the shinigami became the epicenter of a wild winter storm in his efforts to fend off the encroaching projectiles. Out of the corner of his eye, Tōshirō saw something black-- actually, multiple _somethings_ \-- scrabbling up into the pure white branches like spiders. He instinctively lashed out at them with a blast of ice without really looking at them.

 _We need to get on the path._ Hyōrinmaru sounded as frustrated as Tōshirō felt. _We shouldn't have to defend from below if we're on solid ground._

 _We hope_ , Tōshirō thought darkly.

 _We hope_ , Hyōrinmaru agreed.

Tōshirō managed to turn toward the central path. He jabbed his sword straight out. A wide, powerful bolt of ice lanced out from the blade in a straight line for the path. Tōshirō shattered the ice with a thought and dove through the impromptu tunnel with the fastest combination of shunpo and flight he could manage. He hit the ground hard and immediately expanded his ice wings to curl them around him in an armored dome. Tōshirō took the opportunity to breathe deeply and regroup.

 _Well, we got more than halfway up_ , Hyōrinmaru said sourly. _That's something, I suppose._ Tōshirō got the distinct impression that his dragon was offended by being forced out of the sky-- by _trees_ of all things.

Tōshirō panted and looked through his ice dome, watching and listening as the sharp briar branches endlessly peppered his wings and tried to chip them away. They weren't strong enough to overcome his ability to regenerate his wings by pulling the moisture from the broken pieces back into the main structure, though. The black things were crawling around the dome, too, but the ice distorted Tōshirō's view enough that he couldn't see what they were.

He looked down and assessed his injuries. The shorn ends of white branches protruded from the backs of his legs and left arm. Most worrisome was a wooden spike lodged in his side that managed to pierce all the way through to his front. The sharp tip protruded a good six inches out from the fleshy space just above his left hip.

Wonderful.

 _Take it out. I don't trust it_ , Hyōrinmaru said tensely. _Take them all out._

Tōshirō scowled doubtfully at the biggest wound. _Blood loss--_

_Kidō won't work fast enough. I'll freeze it. We don't need to worry about internal aftereffects-- Akemi is going to undo all of this soon._

Tōshirō blinked and drew up short in thought. That... could actually work in their favor. They could afford to take risks they usually couldn't. Freezing parts of his own body and continuing to fight was something he could do-- had done-- in dire circumstances, but thawing and recovery could be troublesome even for an ice spirit. If he didn't do it just right, he could be uselessly sidelined in the Fourth Division infirmary if this mess turned into a war. If he didn't have to account for that....

 _Do it_ , Tōshirō thought.

The shinigami grimaced as his dragon froze the flesh around the branch, then yanked the spike out. Hyōrinmaru prodded him to get the smaller ones. Tōshirō thought the sharp pain from several wounds was due to the ice his dragon had formed around the more bothersome branches, but was proven wrong when he yanked on what was essentially a wooden stake in the back of his right thigh and removed it with great difficulty. He actually screamed as it tore loose. Sensing Hyōrinmaru's alarm, Tōshirō looked at the spike instead of tossing it away.

Roots.

 _Hell no_.

Matching pain lanced through his lower left leg. Something _moved_ in his left arm.

“ _FREEZE THEM!_ ” Tōshirō screamed aloud.

Hyōrinmaru was doing so before Tōshirō had even finished forming the words. After a few minutes of frantically plucking glorified splinters with roots out of his extremities, Tōshirō was furious. His left leg was stiff from the knee down due to the extent of the freezing his zanpakutō had been forced to do there. Same for his right thigh and upper left arm. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other just caused pain in different places, though favoring his right leg made his torso wound hurt less. But Tōshirō was a shinigami captain; he was no stranger to pain. This was nothing compared to what he endured during the Winter War. This pain just made him more driven.

After another moment of testing his weight and movement, Hyōrinmaru sheathed Tōshirō's body in more extensive ice armor beneath his uniform. _Let us finish this_ , he growled.

Tōshirō got in a ready position and made his wings explode outward with a thought. The sheer number of ice shards mirrored the attacks of the branches and shredded them. He jumped into the best shunpo he could manage, cutting down anything in his path. Hyōrinmaru partially reformed their ice wings, but kept them smaller to enable his shinigami to move more freely on the ground and pulled moisture behind them in a shimmering trail in case they needed the wings to shield.

Tōshirō quickly found that the spider-like black shapes he had seen earlier were disembodied hands taller than he was mincing around in pairs on their fingertips. He slashed through them as he rushed past, jumped out from between pairs that tried to clap closed on him, and dodged around energy attacks they shot at him by pointing and mimicking a gun. Sometimes new ones would fall from above and try to swat him like a fly, but an arc of ice kept them from landing a hit. Fighting and glorious adrenaline took his mind off the pain as he relentlessly pressed upward along uneven white ground and intricate white tile and elegant white marble steps.

As he ascended, the path and central structure became more shadowed. By the time he reached the top, they were pitch black. A final staircase rose along the central structure and led him to a rounded platform that stuck out as the structure continued upward. When Tōshirō stepped forward and looked up, it became obvious that he had climbed an enormous statue of a crowned woman, its head still towering above him. In context, he realized he was standing on the statue's extended arm. At the far end, the arm **e** nded in a fist ho **l** ding up a mas **s** ive red monstr **a** nce. A shadowy figure knelt as though in prayer at the juncture of hand and wrist. It looked like a girl with hair **m** ade of loose vines **a** nd fused legs that t **r** ansitioned **i** nto widespre **a** d roots, hands clasped reverently before her bowed head. The Witch was completely black. Beyond the monstrance, a stationary rose window emanated harsh white light.

Tōshirō wished the Witch had a less human silhouette. In retrospect, he was glad Karin's Witch hadn't been humanoid. The Arrancar he had fought in the Winter War had been human in their own way, but had actively and deliberately been trying to kill shinigami. Witches, he gathered, were madly lashing out in mindless pain. A more human appearance made a Witch more difficult to fight-- it was easier to see the girl whose soul had been distorted and feel pity.

Akemi had been right to use the words “put her out of her misery.”

Tōshirō steeled himself, surveyed the area, and charged at the Witch's apparently unprotected back-- he figured there must be _some_ kind of defense and wanted to draw it out into the open from the start. He was proven correct when the loose roots at the base of the Witch thrust into the ground. Black, snake-like Familiars sprouted from the ground in neat, garden-like rows and lashed out for the shinigami from either side while small branches sprouted from the Witch's back and spread to look like the silhouette of ragged angel wings. Tōshirō slashed the first wave of Familiars in half. Their bodies fell to the ground and writhed before disintegrating in shadowy clouds. A second wave immediately followed the first, whiplike bodies with the heads of many different animals slavering at the chance to tear him to shreds with their teeth. Too close to defend, Tōshirō dodged around them-- straight into the branches suddenly growing from the Witch's back with explosive force, accompanied by a grinding and groaning of wood that sounded uncomfortably like a tortured human wail.

Eyes wide, Tōshirō thrust his sword forward and shouted, “Ryūsenka!” in hope of either shattering the branches or delaying them for the two seconds it took for the full extent of Hyōrinmaru's wings to materialize around him once more for protection. He ended up getting a combination of both, a good deal of thick branches snapping off when contact with his blade caused ice to blossom explosively. Those remaining slammed into his wings and bore him skyward. Tōshirō allowed the Witch to throw him and even propelled himself backward with it, hoping that he could avoid being badly stabbed by moving the same direction as the attack. The smaller side-shoots of the branches sheared off against his icy armor. When the branches reached their greatest extent, Tōshirō beat his reformed wings and continued to move back and up. He perched on the giant statue's crown and looked down at the Witch.

The Witch had an entire jagged tree sticking out of its back. It was black and enormous, making the kneeling figure look like a little girl sitting by a felled redwood. The branches stayed still for a few moments, then shivered and incrementally withdrew to the Witch until they were once again the seemingly harmless ruined wings on its back.

Tōshirō frowned in thought. Rushing at it from behind and hacking at it would probably end with him badly injured or dead. Those branches were no joke and the Familiars were extremely maneuverable. Its back was just too well-protected. Ideally, this Witch would be best handled by a team working together, one to draw attention to the back and the other to sneak attack the front. But Tōshirō was alone.

Well, not completely.

Hyōrinmaru perked up in interest. They conferred for a minute. _I like this plan_ , the dragon said smugly.

 _It's a gamble_ , Tōshirō demurred.

_A reasonable gamble, considering._

A minute later, the shinigami dropped from the statue in a full stoop, body shimmering as he silently conjured multiple ice dragon constructs to snake out and meet the Familiars head-on. Dragons with maws full of icicle fangs crushed the heads of the first line of defense while the shinigami rocketed past them and shot a bolt of ice straight at the Witch's back. The Witch responded with another explosion of monstrous tree limbs. The shinigami didn't bother to dodge, instead being run through multiple times and carried back in the onslaught until he completely shattered.

His ice clone destroyed, Tōshirō allowed his concealment kidō to lapse as he dove for the Witch's unguarded front from atop the red monstrance. His true blade stabbed the Witch in the heart. For the briefest of moments, Tōshirō was face-to-face with the Witch. Unexpectedly sane brown eyes opened and stared at him in surprise before the Witch burst into particles of shimmering red light and coalesced into a Soul Gem as the cathedral wavered out of existence.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The last few weeks of work have been exhausting. I dunno when I'll have another chapter.


	34. DREIUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Work is calming down. I'm so happy. T^T I carry a little notebook to scribble the story in when I'm sitting at bus stops or waiting rooms. ;)
> 
> ********** IMPORTANT BLEACH CONTINUITY NOTE **********  
> re: Ichigo's zanpakutō  
> For the purposes of this story, the zanpakutō developments from the Thousand Year Blood War manga arc have not happened. Zangetsu's blade looks as it does at the end of the Lost Agent arc. As for the spirits within it, well............

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x § 

**DREIUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Usually, Akon would be extremely conscious of being observed by multiple captains as he worked, would feel their stares as an itch between his shoulders as they watched and expected scientific miracles to fall from his fingers. Instead, he was part of such a frenzy that he barely noticed captains filing into the control room until the Captain Commander himself graced them with his presence. The frantic technicians flinched as one at the feel of his _very unhappy_ reiatsu, but kept working. If anything, they worked even harder. Nemu coolly nudged Akon aside and took over the terminal he had claimed beside Hiyosu, her hands smoothly continuing to rewrite code much faster than Akon was capable of. Oh, he was good-- he had to be very well-rounded to get to Third Seat-- but he was more a physical sciences kind of guy. Nemu probably dreamed in code as far as he was concerned. Akon looked around and found that his subordinates were doing their jobs excellently... leaving him nothing to do but observe and wait. And answer questions.

“Report,” rumbled Captain-Commander Yamamoto.

Akon looked around. “Captain Kurotsuchi--?”

Without even glancing at him, Nemu murmured, “Our captain is engaged in a delicate experiment upon the Grief Seed in our custody.” She fell silent, obviously handing the responsibility of reporting to Akon. The Captain-Commander expectantly raised his brows at Akon, who took a deep breath.

The Third Seat was only a few sentences in when Hiyosu interrupted with a loud, “Japan/Korea data interface restored!”

It was probably quite rude, but Akon ended his report and wheeled around to look at the screens. “Status?”

“Still lagging at minimal functionality. Better than nothing. I'll pull up the map.” Hiyosu went still. After a moment, he looked at Akon and said, “Uhhhh.” He tapped a series of keys that put his screen on the main monitor.

Everyone looked at it. Busy scientists glanced, blanched, and turned back to their work. The captains stared. Most of them didn't know what they were looking at except that it was a map of Japan with random colored blotches.

Shinji Hirako, Fifth Division Captain and one of the officers who had lived in the World of the Living for an extended period, whistled lowly. “I'm guessin' this works like human weather radar, but for spirit stuff? Scale'a blank is good, green's okay, and red is bad?”

“Yes,” Akon replied distractedly.

Shinji scratched his head, face considering. “So that red, purple, and black hurricane-thing over Karakura is seriously bad news.”

“You could say that,” Akon strained.

“What _is_ it?” asked Jushiro.

“I don't know, but it is a Witch wavelength. We think. Massively amplified-- beyond Espada class-- but more Witch than Hollow. We were still tinkering with Witch calibration when this happened.”

“I thought a Hollow hurricane was supposed to drop on Mitakihara,” Ninth Division Captain Kensei Muguruma grumbled, crossing his arms in annoyance. That part of the map was clear.

Akon blinked, thought, and looked back at the screen. “Oh.”

“What 'oh'?” drawled Eight Division Captain Shunsui Kyoraku.

“I wonder if _this_ is that rumored Walpurgisnacht thing Urahara reported.”

There was uneasy silence for a moment. Nemu broke it with a cool, “Mid-range on-site remote operations partially restored. Stationary sensors inoperable. Deploying surveillance drone.”

While waiting for further word from Nemu, the Captain-Commander turned his eyes back to Akon. “Were you able to contact our assets in Karakura?”

“No, sir,” Akon answered grimly.

Yamamoto grunted. “Keep trying.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Video,” Nemu announced. She tapped a few keys and took over the main screen. “Drone is approximately fifteen kilometers from the center of the disturbance.”

The image wasn't the best, but the Karakura skyline was recognizable. The video jittered and shivered from clarity to static and in and out of focus at random intervals. Above Karakura was an inverted doll-like figure hanging from a series of cogs that were roughly as far across as all of downtown Karakura. Hundreds of small figures were darting through the air, the flashes of reiatsu-based attacks glimmering among the confusing mess.

“It looks like a damn alien invasion,” Shinji said incredulously. “Mothership, dogfights, an' all.”

“A mother-what now?” Shunsui asked in morbid curiosity.

Second Division Captain Soi Fon glared at Shinji. “Have you withheld knowledge of an enemy, Hirako?”

“Fiction, Soi Fon,” Third Division Captain Rojuro Otoribashi interrupted with a deep sigh. “He's referring to a popular opponent in human fiction.” Over two years back in Soul Society and the culture gap still reared its head at the oddest times.

Before Soi Fon could snap a reply, the screen flared brightly and went blank.

“My fuckin' _eyes_ ,” snarled Eleventh Division Captain Kenpachi Zaraki. His tiny pink-haired lieutenant giggled from her perch on his shoulder.

“Mid-range sensors offline again,” Hiyosu reported unhappily. “Aaaand the Japan/Korea data interface has frozen again.”

Nemu's fingers flew over her keyboard as all the technicians tensely tried to reconnect with the World of the Living. A breathless ten minutes later, Nemu manged to hobble the drone up onto a building, turn it in the correct direction, and get a shaky visual of Karakura once more.

Something like a multicolored bonfire was raging at the base of the giant invader. The air below, which had been dense with flying combatants, was clear of everything but hundreds of colored circles. Except for the dancing flames, all was still.

No sign of any surviving defenders.

Captain-Commander Yamamoto scowled. He turned to the door and began to leave. He glanced at his Captains, eyes hard.

“Deploy.”

§ x § x §

It took several moments for Isshin's eyes to adjust to the sudden dimness of the cavern he found himself in. The first thing he noticed was an overpowering smell of sweets-- chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla, that indescribable scent that meant that something containing a great deal of sugar had been baked to perfection. When he could see **p** roperly, he was immediately dist **u** rbed.

Thou **g** h the grou **n** d and w **a** lls felt solid, they were brown with swirls of white that reminded him of chocolate cake with white icing drizzled onto it. A closer look convinced him that at least half of the icing was a **c** tually gauze bandages haphazardly strewn abo **u** t. Everything the cavern contained see **m** ed to be a twisted hospital scene. Red and blue tubes were draped along the ceiling in a manner that suggested blood vessels, but they connected a great nu **m** ber of IV bags that **a** lso hung from the ceilin **g**. Each b **a** g had a stamp on it that looked like a pink mouse wearing a white nurse's cap. One side of the long hall was divided into uneven staging areas like those in emergency rooms, each stall separated by shoddy pink railings and giant scissors that had been stabbed into the cake floor. The staging areas were numbered out of order and each featured a crude bed made out of a dessert-- flans, cupcakes, tiramisu, even a gelatin mold. Upon each “bed” sat lanky nurses wearing pink dresses and white nurse caps. Instead of faces and hair, their heads featured uneven concentric white and blue rings that looked like they had been scribbled with blue ballpoint pen. The heads bobbled on their necks as they... well, it was hard to say they looked at Isshin when they had no eyes, but they seemed to turn in his direction.

The nurse Familiars lurched to their feet and approached the former shinigami captain, shrieking without mouths and wielding clipboards, syringes, IV poles, scalpels, and other medical items. They fell to Engetsu's blade fairly simply. Isshin heard squeaking and turned just in time to see several creatures hurry further into the labyrinth. Not seeing any other choice, he followed them.

The dim cavern wandered in every which way but straight. The path was lined with giant sewing needles stabbed into the cake floor with thick thread draped through their eyes. Syringes varying from small to giant, filled and empty, were jabbed into the walls and floors along with surgical pins, tweezers, scissors, and even bandaids. Whatever creatures were nearby managed to stay out of sight but the steady squeaks they made gave away that they were there. Giant desserts were littered throughout-- chocolate chip cookies, Belgian waffles, rock candy, slices of pie, eclairs-- a sugar addict's dream amid the ominous medical equipment.

Isshin finally saw what the squeaking creatures were when he rounded a corner and found a chamber lit in garish overhead hospital lights. This area strongly favored donuts and jellybeans. Strewn among them were giant glass vials. Some of them contained medicine, others candy, still others held surgical instruments. Hurrying around the bottles were bulbous... _things_... as tall as his hip with pink stick legs. They were black with red spots. While their faces were the same featureless rings the nurses had, these creatures also had droopy purple mouse ears, pink mouse tails, and squeaked like mice. Isshin mentally dubbed the Familiars the Mice From Hell. They seemed non-threatening up until Isshin realized he was surrounded by them. He swung Engetsu back just as they all pounced.

The skirmish was sloppy, the sheer concentration of enemies making it difficult to do anything fancier than repeatedly slash around him. They didn't seem to be able to do much harm to him on their own, but as a mob they seemed determined to bury him. Whether they meant to suffocate him or stall him, Isshin couldn't say. Whichever it was didn't matter anyway-- he had a fight to get back to outside.

Isshin flared his reiatsu to repel the Mice From Hell just enough for him to shunpo to the top of an upright stick of Pocky while charging a Getsuga Tenshō on his blade. He paused for a moment for the mice to regroup then slung the burning moonlight at the entire pack. He clinically repeated the attack several times. There was a cacophony of rodent screeches, but it soon died down. Isshin stayed where he was until the air cleared; nothing was left but the scent of burnt sugar.

The shinigami dropped from the cookie stick and extended his senses before cautiously moving toward the strongest source of Hollow-like reiatsu. He soon found a door. Its hinges creaked as he slipped through it and shut it behind him. The new area was even dimmer than the initial maze. The only source of light was a hazy white mist that glowed softly around a collection of big, free-floating glass medicine vials with the same strange contents he had seen in the others. He looked down and couldn't see much of his own feet in the blackness. Looking forward, he didn't see a solid path. Just darkness and the occasional row of soft white dots that could be anything.

The moonlight power Engetsu held within Isshin's soul waned to a crescent, the zanpakutō spirit as taut with unease as his master.

Isshin cautiously stepped forward and found solid ground. He wanted to shunpo through the section as quickly as possible but was wary of doing so when he couldn't see what he might land on. So he walked the hall of vials with a measured pace, constantly waiting for the invisible floor to give out under him. It was anticlimactic when he reached a glowing white door with chocolate bars on it.

On the other side of the door was an area littered with more sweets leading up to a bridge through darkness. It was black with large pink polka dots and warped pink railings. The absolute quiet was getting unnerving-- at least when the mice had been squeaking, he had known they were there. Isshin didn't know what to expect. He settled for crossing the bridge on foot, on alert for attack from any direction.

Birthday candles as big as streetlights flared to life in the darkness on either side of the bridge as Isshin walked. Medicine capsules fell from above like snow while warm will-o'-the-wisps floated upward. Candies and desserts and dead Mice From Hell dangled from the distant ceiling on the hooked ends of surgical sutures. Though on a mission, Isshin found his mind wandering, comparing this labyrinth to-- the one he had seen before. The significance of the items in-- the one he had seen before. The juxtaposition of sweets and hospital miscellany provoked several ideas about what struggles the soul at the center of the labyrinth had faced in life. One thought led to another until he had the disconcerting realization that he was walking through the soul of some other father's daughter. Some other father's daughter had been manipulated into selling her soul and becoming... this. He had known it, yes, but thinking in those terms made it all so much worse.

Engetsu waxed, warm summer moonlight reassuringly settling on Isshin's shoulders in the eerie dark. Thirst for justice thrummed through them.

At the end of the bridge, Isshin found himself on top of a cliff that looked like frosting. He cautiously approached edge and peered around the new chamber. Mice From Hell were marching along ledges made of messily stacked strawberry charlotte layers. Isshin searched the room and saw a door on the far end. He glanced between it and the marching mice, calculating. The things hadn't seemed particularly fast or smart and he really did need to get this over with as soon as possible. Mind made up, Isshin sprinted across the room with shunpo and wrenched the door open as the mice screeched and started tumbling down to confront him. He slammed the door shut, cast a quick temporary barrier, and looked around. Barring a door with a giant slice of fruitcake wasn't something he ever thought he'd do, but hey, it worked.

So he advanced, rushing through chambers with as little fighting as possible. He hit a snag with another hall full of the disturbing nurse Familiars, but they didn't slow him much because he managed to take out most of them with a wide Getsuga Tenshō launched straight down the hall. It wasn't long before he found himself in a small, round room whose walls were made of Neapolitan cake and featured a door with a black silhouette of the stamp he had seen on IV bags, cookies, and medicine jars throughout the labyrinth. The words “chocolate flavor” were obvious, but a long word was scribbled beneath it in illegible runes. There was a big cupcake on either side of the door with giant hors d'oeuvre forks jammed in their pink frosting. He could sense that the Witch was on the other side of the door-- the Hollow-like reiatsu was sharply more powerful as he approached. On the one hand, he was pleased to have gotten through the labyrinth unscathed. On the other... Isshin frowned.

Too easy.

_Suspiciously_ easy, considering-- considering the difficulty reaching the center of-- of his daughter's labyrinth.

…He hoped he had sufficiently expressed his limitless rage toward the Incubators for putting his baby through that when he had written his time capsule contribution. He wanted to ensure that his past self would be just as wrathful as he felt without his girls having to suffer and without Ichigo and him having to live through the horror and grief.

Anyway. Back on track: The Witch beyond the door. Homura had obliquely implied the Witches varied in strength and ability to snare victims, so perhaps this Witch was just weak. Call him paranoid, but what he sensed beyond the door didn't feel weak. Tense, Isshin opened the door and stepped through it.

The area beyond the door was immense and dim. From what he could see, it was a wide plain littered with more gigantic desserts. When he craned his head back to look up, he saw distant white sparkles. Not liking this one bit, he adjusted his grip on Engetsu and cautiously stepped forward.

The cavern echoed **w** ith the sound **o** f a cellophane bag of cook **i** e **s** being jos **t** le **d** as a cluster of mult **i** color **e** d spar **k** les in its center reve **a** led a tea table and pair of chair **s** with ridiculously tall l **e** gs. Bright white icing oozed down the cavern walls and gradually lit Isshin's surroundings. The plain turned out to be the top of a giant frosted cake. Isshin glanced down and wiggled a foot. The surface was mostly firm, but had a mud-like slipperiness beneath a hard crust-- buttercream frosting. As the light improved, Isshin saw that dozens of the tall tea tables were scattered around the chamber at varying heights and angles.

Isshin snapped his head up as the sound of a **c** ellop **h** ane bag being torn open c **a** me from above, accompanied by a bu **r** st of Hollow-like reiatsu. The **l** ights brightened still m **o** re as a pink... mouse plushie? wearing a red and black cape, a black man **t** le with pink polka do **t** s, and a loose-sle **e** ved brown shirt fluttered down from the ceiling and landed on one of the chairs at the central tea table. It was definitely the Witch, but with its white face, rosy cheeks, and blue button eyes it looked like a stuffed animal his Yuzu would dote upon. If Isshin had to do a threat assessment on appearance alone, he'd rate it a zero on a scale of one to ten.

Engetsu's banked embers smoldered brighter. _You thought it yourself: Suspiciously easy. Be careful._

Isshin grunted agreement and leapt up onto the nearest tea table. Wanting to get it over with quickly, he darted from table to table with shunpo until he was higher than the middle table and launched himself straight at the plushie, Engetsu's blade thrust out before him.

The pink plushie fell aside at the last moment and fluttered toward the ground like a fallen leaf.

Isshin looked at the Witch strangely as he turned in midair and flared his power through his blade to burn off the remains of the wooden chair, then slung a Getsuga Tenshō at the plushie. Its seemingly random fluttering twisted aside at the last moment. It plopped to the ground haphazardly, as though discarded by a distracted child. Isshin landed on a shorter table and threw a flurry of the same attack, herding the plushie toward a giant slice of cake. When it was trapped against the improvised wall, Isshin sped in close with a Shakkahō spell gleaming in his fist and punched the plushie's body. There was a small explosion and a sound of tearing fabric as the doll's simple, straight line of a mouth opened.

Engetsu's alarm had Isshin jumping backwards with shunpo before he even knew what he was reacting to. Something bulged forth from the toy's mouth, illogically enormous compared to that which contained it. First came a round white face with doily-like scalloped edges, mismatched eyes with multicolored rings in their irises, a conical nose like a party hat with a puffball on top, and two winglike moth antennae-- one blue, one red. It was followed by a long black body that just kept coming.

At first Isshin thought the creature that emerged like a tasteless canned snake prank and ballooned hundreds of times larger than the little plushie was laughably cartoonish. Then it opened its mouth.

Teeth, teeth, and more teeth.

In one perfect moment, Isshin remembered the audio file Kisuke had sent him of Homura's initial interview.

“ _Then Mami fought the monster by herself. She tied it up and shot it but it didn't die-- a bigger monster came out its mouth a-and bit Mami's h-head off and ate her body.”_

He had no way of knowing if this was the Witch that had eaten **Mami** Tomoe, but the **m** ental image **o** f the **g** oofy face opening its mo **u** th full of horrific teeth as the gentle girl in the **m** issing persons p **o** sters stared at her oncomin **g** death did something profo **u** nd to him. Hardened him.

The Witch soared after Isshin as he kept moving backwards, crazed eyes tracking him as it followed. Isshin lobbed a Getsuga Tenshō into the cavernous mouth. The creature's head exploded, but the mouth peeled back farther as another face burst out of it. Isshin scowled and dodged around the chamber, stalling by forcing his pursuer to weave between the tea tables. He doubled back and slung a Getsuga Tenshō at the Witch's midsection, completely slicing it in two. Again, a new body emerged from the mouth of the damaged one.

So it behaved like a disturbing hybrid of nesting dolls and a hydra. Okay.

The Witch's silly face morphed into rage, apparently as frustrated as its opponent. It rolled its coils like a snake, swishing its tail hard to snap tea tables apart at their bases to be rid of obstacles. Isshin withdrew as far as he could, reassessing the cavern and considering his options as the Witch's destructive tantrum continued. He watched its undulating body and had an idea, but....

_I'm not as fast as Yoruichi_ , Isshin mourned to his zanpakutō spirit.

_Very few are_ , Engetsu said drily. _We're fast_ enough _, though._

Isshin's lips quirked humorlessly as he jumped into action. He appeared a distance in front of the monster and threw a weak Getsuga Tenshō in its face-- just enough to get its attention. He led it on another chase, this time down low around the giant sweets-- more solid obstacles than the tea tables. Isshin lured it to a cluster of Piroulines jutting up out of the buttercream floor like a copse of trees and drew it into a rising circle around them. It dogged his heels as they completed one revolution and dove after the shinigami as he dropped sharply left and down behind a Pirouline. The Witch plowed into its own long body face-first. Its eyes blinked comically as it wobbled in a daze and its party hat nose fell off. It didn't even see Isshin coming until the shinigami's blade was hilt-deep in the space between its eyes.

Isshin warily maintained his finishing strike pose and watched the Witch's body glow milky violet-white and break apart into sparkles. His eyes were drawn back to his blade by a quiet gasp.

Engetsu's hilt was flush against the chest of a small girl with wavy white hair. Her wide eyes faded from the surreal multicolored rings of the Witch to natural hazel. She looked as surprised as Isshin felt.

He knew her face from the Mitakihara articles: Nagisa Momoe.

Nagisa's eyes teared up. Her mouth moved as if to speak but she broke apart and vanished, sparkling white reiatsu condensing into a white Soul Gem as the cave of sweets melted away.

§ x § x §

In an instant, Ichig **o** we **n** t from a stormy morning sky **t** o a clear nig **h** t sky dott **e** d with acid green stars. The disorienting transition felt eerily similar to the many times Riruka and Yukio had admitted him to their Fullbrings, each of which had tossed him into a world com **p** letely cont **r** oll **e** d by its **c** reator. That was disquiet **i** ng enough without the cree **p** ing sense that he should _know_ th **i** s pla **c** e. That h **e** recognized the feel **of** it at some level but couldn't quite place it. He had no memory of the bizarre cardboard town and its absur **d** numb **e** r o **f** tel **e** phone poles **a** nd high- **t** ension power lines patrolled by arcing electricity. Still, the place gave him the creeps. Stranger yet, he could sense the unease in his usually implacable zanpakutō spirit.

_Zangetsu?_

Summer moonlight filtered through churning clouds. _I do not like this place_ , the spirit commented in the younger tone of his bankai form. _This place... I_ _hate_ _it._ Strong words for such an aloof spirit.

_Get the fuck outta here, King_ , snarled Ichigo's Inner Hollow. He sounded unnerved beneath his anger.

Well, that was ominous.

Uneasy, Ichigo looked around from his vantage point in the sky. “Can only do that if we defeat the Witch. I think.” He spotted a menacing radio tower in the distance. “Well, if that doesn't scream 'villain's lair,' I don't know what does,” Ichigo said drily.

Ichigo rolled his shoulders uncomfortably and descended to the city, leaping through the deserted streets by using the power poles as stepping stones to conserve energy. He had plenty to spare, of course, but better safe than sorry. There was still a massive enemy to fight when he got out of this place and Captain Unohana wasn't around to restore his reiryoku like she had during the war.

As he progressed, he began to pass clockwork birds perched on wires and cardboard buildings. They rustled their wings with a whirring of tiny gears and mechanically droned “piroripara pirirora” in lieu of birdsong. All at once, the flock mobbed him. The birds weren't particularly threatening on their own and were fairly simple to kill by slashing around with a Getsuga Tenshō charging his blade, but reaching talons and pecking beaks occasionally landed a hit and drew blood. The running battle left a trail of broken clockwork behind him as he bounced from roof to roof. Soon, he found himself on the last rooftops before the base of the tower. The remaining clockwork birds balked and retreated as though more afraid of the tower than the shinigami

The radio tower was made of classic metal latticework. It looked like a cheap knockoff of the Eiffel Tower, spindly bare-bones steel reaching high in the sky. Green electricity arced over the steel at random intervals. A large plasma ball full of green arcs of energy crowned the tower. Pink warning lights pulsed at major joints of the structure. Something bulky hung clustered in the hollow of the tower just beneath the plasma ball.

Ichigo frowned up at it. “What am I supposed to attack? Is the Witch inside? Is the ball the Witch? Is the _whole tower_ the Witch? The one outside is gears and stuff....”

_Don't matter_ , the Hollow said. _Destroy the whole mess 'n_ _get the fuck outta here_ _._ He gave Ichigo the distinct impression of a threatened cat with its hackles up. Disturbing as hell-- the Hollow was usually eager to run into danger and gleefully cause mayhem. Still more disturbing, Zangetsu echoed the same feeling. It made Ichigo's skin crawl.

Eager to _get out get out get out_ , Ichigo swung his arm back and charged his signature attack. He roared as he launched it and felt oddly relieved as the crescent of energy split the tower in half from top to bottom. The mood was short-lived. Th **i** ck electrical cords **s** naked out of the collaps **i** ng tower and reache **d** in every directi **o** n like a monst **r** ous collection of tent **a** cles. Ichigo prepared another attack but was forced to defend when several sizzling cables whipped his way like anacondas. He dodged around and countered innumerable cables as his ears rang in the shrieking cacophony of fax machines, modems, and distorted human screams. His bankai-enhanced speed was all that kept him from being captured. It became obvious he needed to shake off the relentless cables if he wanted to figure out his next move.

Ichigo dove down into the cardboard city once more and zigzagged through the streets. The huge cables stabbed down from above, missing him and piercing the flimsy building façades. He thought he was doing pretty damn well until he rounded a corner and plowed headlong into a makeshift net of smaller power lines that had been diverted from their poles and woven together.

Trapped.

Ichigo flared his reiatsu and tried to wrest himself free, but it only made the cables tighten. His reiatsu was channeled away by the conductive wires. He was breathless when the big cables descended and dragged him skyward again. Zangetsu and the Hollow were furious at his binding. Before they could react, their triad of power hitched at a sudden sense of déjà vu.

“ _I got a call. I need to do something.” He was drawn dreamily forward, heeding a call as undeniable as gravity._

Ichigo startled and blinked. His head swam. “The hell was--?” He cut himself off at what he felt from his dual spirits-- they were both appalled, dread threading through their link. _What the hell, guys?!_ No answer.

Within the sideways city of skyscrapers that formed Ichigo's Inner World, Tensa Zangetsu and the Hollow watched aghast as cracks spiderwebbed through the windows of the top three stories the eighteen-story building that held Ichigo's memories of the time they lay dormant in his soul. The sixteenth floor of that one building was the only place in their shinigami's mind they had been unable to access. Neither spirit knew what lay within. The pane of glass at the very center of the sixteenth level crumbled completely and left a gap. A few green sparks fizzled in the dark hole.

The cables dragged Ichigo back toward the wreckage of the tower. The cracked plasma sphere sat atop the rubble, green and pink energy arcing angrily. The tower had been reduced to electrified, twisted metal. As he approached, half of the cables doubled back and reached down into the wreckage. They went taut and hauled up a jumbled mess of oversized electronics. Surge strips, CPUs, analog telephones, alarm clocks, keyboards, computer mice, speakers, cameras, cell phone chargers, fax machines, modems, routers-- all were tangled around a particularly large smart phone whose screen portrayed a glowing red eye with a flat black iris on a black background. The eye rolled around and _looked_ at Ichigo.

_His own voice came as though from a great distance. “Here. I won't need it anymore.”_

Ichigo blinked rapidly. _Guys?_ No reply. Just angry uncertainty.

A digitized female voice rang in his head. _mine mine mine mine mine--_

Trapped in a Hollowfied girl's soul, ensnared in cable-snakes, and facing a tech trash heap that was using _goddamn Siri_ to telepathically chant in his head because God knew he couldn't physically hear anything but screeching fax machines. And here he had thought his weirdness scale would forever be topped by Aizen turning into a butterfly monster.

_mine mine mine mine mine--_

“I'm not yours!” Ichigo snapped.

Silence. Even the fax and modem sounds died. Then every monitor and screen among the mess of electronics flared to life with static. The digitized voice said, _i have wanted you for a long time and i got you i had you but you were taken from me_

Ichigo's face screwed up in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?! I've never been here in my life!”

Modems trilled angrily. _almost you were the only one who came when invited and you were mine you bore my mark and they took you from me mine mine mine mine mine_

Figuring out what the insane soul was talking about was hard when he was also struggling to break free of his binds.

“ _I won't need it where I'm going,” he said calmly. He promptly climbed..._ something. It was gone.

_those girls won't take you from me this time mine mine mine mine mine_

Ichigo shook his head, trying to think clearly. Disoriented, he asked, “What girls?” aloud.

More shrill modems and faxes, this time accompanied with more agitated thrashing of cords. _tHoSe gIrLs_

The various screens snapped into focus on different video clips of girls. Ichigo froze, eyes wide.

His sisters.

_Ichigo turned to face his sisters, looking their direction without really focusing on them. Everything seemed so remote and floaty and pleasant since his idea first wandered across his mind. Face cheerfully relaxed, Ichigo declared his destination. “Soul Society. Do you want to come with?”_

Surveillance camera footage of Karin bearing a katana while wearing the red costume he had seen so briefly before she turned into a Witch right in front of him. Images of Yuzu in a frilly yellow costume, face cutely serious as she figured out how to wield a whip. The two of them bouncing around in metal latticework.

_tHoSe gIrLs tHoSe gIrLs tHoSe gIrLs_

“ _I understand if you don't want to. I know you don't need me anymore.”_

Ichigo felt dizzy and sick. Had he not been suspended by cables, he may have even fallen over. Within him, Tensa Zangetsu and the Hollow's horrified rage intensified as green sparks sped the breaking of the windows and released suppressed memories. They felt foreign and familiar at the same time.

_Karin sprinted up to him and grabbed his left arm, screaming at him to stop and listen to her. Ichigo glanced at her, frowned, and shrugged his left arm. She didn't let go. Karin didn't understand. Karin wanted to stop him from moving on. He didn't have time for this. So he used his right fist to punch Karin square in the jaw. Karin shrieked and writhed on the ground, hands holding her bloodied face. It was sad that he had to do that, but it really couldn't be helped. He needed to go. The Voice that spoke soothing death in his head the same way Zangetsu used to advise him in battle said so._

_Ichigo craned his head up and looked at the tower he planned to jump from. Jumping would solve all of his problems. The Voice had said so. Peacefully determined in a way he hadn't been in sixteen months, he grasped the ladder's first rung._

In Ichigo's Inner World, the entire top three floors of the cracking building exploded and launched shrapnel in every direction.

Ichigo dry-heaved, his vision fluctuating in dizzying time to the skull-busting headache that felt like he had taken several blows to the head. He had been lured, convinced to commit suicide, had cheerfully begun his attempt in front of his own sisters, and had attacked one of the precious people he had vowed to protect. He was only alive because his sisters had somehow risen to the challenge of saving him. They weren't costumed in his memories. But they _were_ costumed on the screens showing their battle. Had they contracted because he--?

As Ichigo neared blacking out in shock, his blade's spirits leaped skyward in his Inner World with their faces twisted in rage.

They had failed to protect their charge. They had slept through the entire incident, deep in the abyss that had once been filled with Ichigo's power. While they were sleeping, their shinigami had been preyed upon, nearly devoured, had become a threat to that which he fought to protect, had been _marked as property of another spirit_. And they hadn't known.

_tHoSe gIrLs were mean they were so mean they took you away when you were MINE and came back and hurt me tHeY ArE MeAn gIrLs i hOpE ThEy dIe DiE dIe DiE dIe_

Unforgivable.

_you are mine now mine mine mInE MiNe mInE_

Like _hell_.

The dual spirits worked in concert. Tensa Zangetsu enveloped Ichigo's psyche in warm moonlight and dragged him deep within their rapidly flooding Inner World to protect his mind before he went mad. The Hollow rose to the surface of their shared soul, their body's eyes bleeding into black and gold as a bony mask formed on their face. The mask had scarcely completed itself when its teeth tore open to allow the Hollow to bellow a wordless challenge before screaming, “KING DON'T BELONG TO NO ONE BUT _ME!_ ”

The Hollow's reiatsu burst around him in a black and red nimbus, incinerating the cables that bound him. The fight that ensued was the very definition of “one-sided.” The Hollow was vicious and relentless, a monstrous cross of berserker and tactician with a single-minded goal of destroying the thing that had tried to claim _his_ shinigami as its own. The Witch threw everything it had at him, but he lobbed black Getsuga Tenshō crescents into each wave of oncoming electronics as the Witch fled behind them like a frightened spider. Dodging behind the tower wreckage did little good-- the Hollow just sliced through girders like grass and kept coming. With his devastating speed and strength, the Hollow soon had the Witch whittled down to a sparking mess of tightly-knit broken electronics. The Hollow hauled his arm back and prepared to slice it in two. In a last desperate effort, the Witch made a cable whip from behind him and ensnare his sword hand at the apex of his backswing.

The cable wasn't strong enough to hold him back by a long shot but the very fact that the Witch _dared_ to try to restrain him-- cage him, claim him-- pushed the Hollow to new levels of fury. The red stripes on the bone mask broadened as it grew forward-pointing horns and its mouth opened again. As it shrieked, red light gathered between its horns, condensed, and shot forward as a Hollow's signature attack-- a Cero.

The ball of red light blasted straight through the giant smart phone's eye, glass and tech guts exploding violently as something solid launched out its back. The Hollow snapped the cord around his wrist and pursued the thing that had been knocked back. He found it writhing among ruins: a shifting, vaguely human-shaped mass of wires, circuitry, and electrical tape shedding green and pink sparks as it made a keening sound and bled brilliant green antifreeze.

Without a moment's hesitation, the Hollow shifted his grip on his sword and plunged it into the mass. He shrieked as he stabbed it over and over, not bothering to stop when the whole construct glowed green and formed a magical girl with bright green hair in two thick pigtails. The last thing the terrified soul saw was the demonic gold glow of the Hollow's eyes peering out of the dark holes of its mask as it shrieked and stabbed her face. Then she burst into green light and reformed into a green Soul Gem.

The Hollow cleaved the Soul Gem in two and howled in triumph as the labyrinth evaporated.

§ x § x §

A lightninglike surge of power sizzled in the sky north of Karakura and rapidly expanded into a glowing pink rectangle. It spread wide, its glow fading as a long series of shoji panels manifested in front of it. The shoji split in the middle, panels sliding to either side to form a large doorway. Black butterflies fluttered out over the shoulders of many high-ranking officers of the Thirteen Divisions.

The reinforcements had arrived.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I *think* next chapter will be the last before time resets.
> 
> Let me know what you think. *heart*


	35. VIERUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is it: The end of timeline X+N. Let's see if it'll go out with a bang. ;)

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**VIERUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N**

Kisuke could be forgiven for the impatient sigh he heaved as he got his bearings in the labyrinth. He had worked through two nights in a row with only a catnap before dawn. The attack was unexpected and he was just _done_. The part of him that would never cease to be an excellent Second Division officer and stealth operations master came out not to play, but to get the job done. The labyrinth was more complex than he really had the patience for, but he cleared it methodically. The **g** iant ros **e** bush Witch at its cente **r** was bulky and awkward, i **t** s most dange **r** o **u** s aspect being the versatile thorn vines an **d** scissors it could summon for attacking at a distance. It was an annoyance to counter, but he managed it. More interested in speed than finesse, he released Benihime and used her energy attacks to overwhelm the giant tree-butterfly-monster.

Kisuke ignored the Grief Seed falling out of the sky where the Witch had been to assess the battlefield above Karakura. Multiple fighters were just plain missing. Whether they were dead or still trapped, he didn't know. Best to assume their firepower to be lost. Hiyori was boxed in by multiple Witch sigils she was smart enough to not just charge into but looked like that patience would soon die. Jinta wasn't far from her, squinting at sigils and looking murderous. A sigil off to Kisuke's right evaporated and left behind Captain Hitsugaya and a Soul Gem which immediately hatched a Hell Butterfly that drifted away on the wind. Hitsugaya cast about until he made eye contact with the shop owner. Kisuke couldn't help but notice the young captain looked much the worse for wear despite his bankai being active.

Another sigil shattered. Ichigo emerged with his Hollow mask on. The mask was one of its more evolved versions featuring horns, which was worrying. Ichigo bellowed and charged forward-- straight into another sigil-- and disappeared. Okay.

Yoruichi, a cat once more, landed on Kisuke's shoulder with a snap of displaced air. “That might be a problem,” she muttered. “I think he's completely berserk. That's at least the fifth one he's plowed into trying to get to Walpurgisnacht.”

Kisuke looked the way Ichigo had come. Sure enough, there was a path cleared of sigils. “Huh. I wonder what set him off. His control is usually much better than this.” He glanced at Yoruichi then back to Walpurgisnacht. “Didn't expect you to go kitty on us mid-fight.”

Yoruichi scoffed at the implied question. “It's easier to dodge around the things when I'm small.” She huffed. “Have a plan?”

Kisuke hummed and looked at Walpurgisnacht. A multicolored wildfire raged beneath the headless mannequin portion. Otherwise, it was just rotating in place with no minions flying about. He was too experienced to write it off as defenseless. Homura had said the core of the Witch was its cogs. Go for them? They'd need a massive, preferably coordinated attack to affect such a large opponent. And he didn't want to go through more labyrinths to get to it. It would waste too much time while Walpurgisnacht would have free reign to possibly attack widely enough to take out Homura, who he could sense was not as far away as he would have liked. At least she hadn't jumped into battle. He was grateful for-- and impressed by-- her restraint. Anyway, he had a problem to solve and no sigh could adequately express his blend of frustration and exhaustion.

Several things happened all at once:

Isshin reappeared in the sky just as Ichigo broke out of the labyrinth he had dived into.

Ichigo-- or his Hollow, it seemed-- stood in place, his reiatsu seething with frustrated killing intent, and charged a massive black Getsuga Tenshō. The attack blew through the sigils obstructing his path and obliterated the mannequin portion of Walpurgisnacht and about a dozen of the main cog's teeth.

The main cog of the Witch's assembly span much faster.

Ichigo leapt forward to attack, but was snared by another sigil.

A senkaimon from Soul Society opened roughly five kilometers north of the main battle. The defenders who were outside labyrinths and in their right minds recognized a number of captain-class reiatsu signatures emerging from it.

“Well, I'll be damned,” drawled Yoruichi. “The old man came.”

“How unlike him,” Kisuke said distractedly, staring at the Witch. “I wonder what intel Twelfth managed to pick up. It must be quite alarming to provoke this level of response.”

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

Kisuke glanced at the shinigami reinforcements, who seemed to be assessing the situation. How long until Homura's departure? How long did he have to keep the shinigami from being able to confront her? He didn't want to take the risk that them restraining her would ruin her time travel ability. He flicked his eyes to the cat on his shoulder. “Care to take a kittygram to our kindly old grandpa?”

Yoruichi snorted. “I suppose. What am I saying?”

“Go to Isshin and snag his phone, then take it to the Captain-Commander. Speaker phone, please. I'll take it from there.” The scientist pulled his own phone out of a pocket. He frowned at the time.

The black cat flickered away without replying.

§ x § x §

The Soul Society contingent held position in the stormy sky on the Captain-Commander's orders. Whatever had changed between their last video and their arrival had resulted in several defenders being accounted for. Kisuke Urahara's reiatsu was distinctly present. Yamamoto chose to give the man five minutes to relay information to him since the enemy didn't seem to be actively attacking anything. Best not to rush in with no intel and make a bad situation worse if they could avoid it.

Without warning, a black cat alighted on top of Soi Fon's head. The captain's first instinct was to stab her small zanpakuto upwards, but she froze when she recognized the reiatsu of the person she most admired. “Y-yoruichi--!”

Yoruichi dug her claws into her protègée's scalp and thrust her face forward and up to draw attention to the phone in her mouth. Yamamoto only had to glance at his lieutenant to prompt the man to dart forward, retrieve the phone, and relay it to his captain. The phone immediately began to ring.

“Speaker phone, he said,” Yoruichi called out. The old man raised one bushy brow, decided that would be most efficient, and accepted the call.

“Kisuke Urahara,” he rumbled.

“Good morning, sir! It's so kind of you to visit. _Lovely_ weather we're having, yes?”

Yamamoto closed his eyes. It was like the man had a pathological _need_ to be obnoxious. “You failed to report.”

“Well, I've been a tad busy, sir.”

“I see,” Yamamoto said drily. In the distance, Ichigo broke free of a sigil, roared, and launched a black attack that completely broke a smaller gear below the main cog. Girl-shaped beings of starry reiatsu and dancing flames swarmed out of the bonfire beneath Walpurgisnacht and mobbed him. “What is Kurosaki doing?”

Entirely too chipper, Kisuke replied, “Going completely berserk, from the look of it.”

Off to Yamamoto's left, Kenpachi Zaraki cackled in appreciation while his lieutenant cooed over the whirlwind of violence around the young Visored in the midst of the battle. Zaraki's third seat grinned and his fifth seat started murmuring as though giving an art critique.

He was too damn old for this. “What happened?”

“Well, he's had a rough couple of days, what with the whole _dead sisters_ thing--”

“You know that's not what I mean,” Yamamoto said without emotion. He suspected the scientist was stalling for some unknown reason and did not like it one bit. “Report.”

Yamamoto waved his captains closer to listen to the scientist's briefing on the enemy's abilities. He clinically observed everything in the general vicinity as the former exile spoke. Extensive property damage, mass casualties among the humans, sketchy guesses at best for motive and enemy... a total disaster even without the added headache of the rapid dissemination of information and photos among the living these days. It was a logistical nightmare. Things had been so much simpler even a century earlier.

“Therefor, I propose a coordinated attack on the central structure,” Urahara concluded. “It is actually quite fortunate you came. We should have enough combined firepower to do this.”

Yamamoto grunted agreement. “We will surround the Witch. Those with powerful ranged attacks will use them, then those with heavy melee attacks will rush in from below. We'll brute force it. Stay far enough below the enemy's position to fire upward. Minimize collateral damage if possible. Avoid bankai if possible to minimize soul suffocation of the humans below.” He slid his eyes to the captain of Second Division. “Except for you, Soi Fon. I want you high in the sky and ready to fire your bankai at it if it tries to flee. Your lieutenant may accompany you.” He made eye contact with the other officers around him as Soi Fon looked sour but nodded. “If that occurs, I expect the rest of you to do your utmost to protect the city from debris.”

“Sounds like a plan!” the scientist chirped. “I'll call Captain Hitsugaya to tell him and Yoruichi will relay the plan to the oth-- ooh, Hachi's back! Great!”

“Thanks for volunteering me, Kisuke,” the cat droned.

“You're welcome!” Beep! Call disconnected.

It was times like this that made Yamamoto glad Urahara had declined the invitation to return to Seireitei. Just the _thought_ of dealing with the man on a daily basis was maddening.

§ x § x §

“Who are they?” Homura asked seriously as she peered at the newcomers with her field glasses. They were just far enough away for the visual aid to be useless for seeing their faces.

“The captains and some of the lieutenants of the Thirteen Divisions,” Orihime answered cheerfully. “You can always tell a captain by their white haori with their division number on their back. Lieutenants have an armband with their division number on it.”

Homura hummed her understanding. “Anything basic I should know about them? How to tell who's who? How to avoid making them hate me?”

“Ummmmmmmmm.” Orihime lowered her binoculars and put a finger to her chin, looking upward in thought. “Captain-Commander Yamamoto is an old man with a really long beard. He's very serious and wants people to be respectful and responsible and obey rules.”

Not unexpected, given his rank.

“Captain Soi Fon is the lady captain with short hair. She likes respectful people who follow rules, too. She doesn't like Mr. Urahara. And Mr. Urahara told me to never say bad things about Yoruichi in front of her because she likes Yoruichi a lot.”

Reasonable.

“Captain Zaraki is a really big man who loves to fight. He wears an eye patch, but both his eyes are fine. His patch is special-- it helps him control his power. He'll like you if you can show him strong enemies to fight. His lieutenant is a little girl named Yachiru. She has pink hair and loves fighting, too. Captain Zaraki doesn't like when people are mean to her. They're nice and good in a fight but you need to lead them places instead of giving them directions 'cause they'll get lost.”

Simple enough.

“Captain Unohana is the lady captain with really long hair she braids in front of her. She's a healer. She's very calm and nice. I've never seen her angry, but my shinigami friends said even other captains are afraid of making her angry. So I guess if she likes you, maybe shinigami who don't like you will leave you alone? She likes people who are nice to her division members and don't make a mess or a lot of noise in her hospital. Rukia said she likes flowers.”

She could work with that.

“Stay away from Captain Kurotsuchi. He's a mad scientist. His zanpakuto is poisonous so don't get cut by it at all, ever. Uryū says his lieutenant keeps an antidote with her, though. That captain is easy to spot because he always wears funny hats and black and white face paint like rock star.”

Homura lowered her glasses and gave Orihime a weird look.

“Oh! Captain Komamura is very nice, but he looks kinda surprising. He's a big dog-man. Wolf-man? So maybe try to act like the dog part is no big deal.”

Homura's brow twisted at the absurdity.

“Hey,” Tatsuki interrupted. She was squinting through the rain with her hand shielding her eyes. “I think they're gonna do something.”

Both girls raised their binoculars once **m** ore. The shinig **a** mi contin **g** ent had spread out **i** n a wide circle below **a** nd around Walpurgisnacht. M **o** st o **f** them, anyway-- a man with **f** ormidable magic and a **v** ery long gray beard remained where the gr **o** up had first appeared. Their **c** omm **a** nder, Homura rea **l** ized.

The girls looked up as they sensed a pulse of power up high, but couldn't see anything through the storm. “That was Captain Soi Fon,” Orihime commented. Homura made note of what that captain's magic felt like.

The sky suddenly lit up with the flashes of multiple ranged attacks. It was mostly a continuous barrage of extremely powerful kidō, but there were also energy blasts courtesy of Chad, Ceros from several Visored shinigami, and an onslaught of Getsuga Tenshō lobbed by Isshin, among others. A cloud of cherry blossoms of all things swirled around the main cog counter to its spin and ground the gear teeth down like a lathe. Ichigo's berserk Hollow apparently had enough wits about him to take a hint and throw his own Cero and black Getsuga Tenshō into the mix. The attacks abruptly stopped on some signal the distant girls couldn't see, but their explosions hadn't yet cleared when several figures rushed toward Walpurgisnacht. Most obvious, a gigantic, ghostly disembodied arm stabbed an enormous translucent sword into the cogs, which made an unholy screech of metal on metal. A burly shinigami launched forward and up as a veritable comet of yellow reiatsu with such strong bloodlust that the girls shuddered at it despite being far away. Similar glowing shinigami followed, blazing rainbow trails as they dodged under and up past the less dense concentration of Witch sigils directly beneath Walpurgisnacht. The Witch shuddered.

The three girls whipped their heads away from the scene, recoiling from a painfully bright explosion.

§ x § x §

Kisuke blindly threw a kidō shield up in front of him with one hand and used the other to hold a strong healing kidō over his closed eyes. He blinked and squinted as soon as he thought he'd be able to see.

Walpurgisnacht had broken down into a dense cloud of multicolored reishi spinning like a miniature hurricane, a million points of light floating in a beautiful spiral. The many Witch sigils that studded the sky glimmered and collapsed into glitter that drifted toward the cloud with its spin. Awed shinigami watched in wonder as the cloud tightened its rotation like a nebula of precious gems. The reishi formed a large globe, then continued to condense smaller and smaller as it spun, shifted through different colors, and glowed more and more brightly. Its power multiplied as it became more concentrated. The sphere shone like a small star.

Kisuke's relieved smile slowly fell while others stayed curious. His eyes widened in recognition.

Hōgyoku.

And unless he was mistaken, one _far_ more perfect than either of those created by himself and Aizen.

§ x § x §

Homura made her magic heal her eyes with a thought and stared at the newborn star in the sky. Wings seemed to sprout from its top and curled down protectively, cast in shadow by the sheer intensity of light shining behind them. Her eyes widened in recognition. She lowered her binoculars and took a step back, slowly shaking her head in confused denial.

Tatsuki was cussing about her eyes somewhere off to her left. Orihime's fairies chimed off to her right, followed by a sigh of relief and a gasp of delight. “It's so pretty!” She bounced excitedly. “They did it!”

Homura just kept shaking her head and dropped the binoculars altogether.

Orihime noticed and frowned in doubt. Turned to look at the apparent miracle. Tentatively gauged the feel of its reiatsu. Blanched as she recognized it.

Kisuke Urahara landed on the rooftop with a snap, eyes wild in his bloodied face. He strode to Homura and roughly grabbed her arm. “Forget the plan! This changes everything! Go straight to me as soon as you get back! Tell me Walpurgisnacht can turn into a Hōgyoku!”

Homura blinked up at him and knit her brow. “A Ho-what?”

“Mister Urahara, should a Hōgyoku have wings?” Orihime asked with a shaky voice.

Kisuke pivoted and looked skyward. The shape must have appeared behind him in transit. He frowned in confusion. “Wings?”

Homura's confusion mirrored his, but for an entirely different reason. “Those aren't wings,” she said dully.

Everyone looked to her. “Homura?” Orihime asked. “W-what are they?”

The “wings” expanded still more. Homura just stared in disbelief.

She knew that shape. _Hated_ that shape. Had seen a small version of the same thing around the glow of countless newly-forged Soul Gems as false bunny ears extended and grabbed at girls' souls with greedy fingers.

Whatever a Hōgyoku was, the Incubator was the one making it.

“ _Miss Akemi_ ,” Kisuke prompted tensely.

“That's the Incubator.”

Silence as Tatsuki was completely lost and Kisuke and Orihime breathed sharply and stared at the light show.

“Even worse,” Kisuke said lowly. He looked at Homura again. “You _must_ tell me that the Incubator can make a Hōgyoku. It changes everything.”

Homura scowled and squirmed her shoulder out from under the man's hand. “Why? What does it do? It looks like it's making a Soul Gem from here.”

Kisuke froze. His eyes went unfocused and darted around, giving him the look of figuring out something momentous on a blackboard only he could see. “Oh. _Oh_.”

Homura leaned away from him. “What?”

Kisuke straightened and stared at the brilliant new Hōgyoku in the distance. “Wishes,” he murmured.

Homura looked to Orihime, who looked equally at a loss.

Any chance for explanation was ruined by the new Hōgyoku firing lances of reishi in every direction. The sky over Karakura became dense with shimmering strands like lasers or tracer fire in a pattern like a grand firework. Those at melee distance were shot through before they could even register what was happening. Mid-range combatants had a moment to try to shield, but couldn't react fast enough. Only those who remained in long-range position managed to get kidō shields up, and they were sorely tested by the onslaught. A few failed completely.

On the rooftop in Naruki City, the three with powers reacted immediately. Kisuke threw a kidō shield in front of them. Orihime's fairies flew out and made a big triangular shield of translucent gold behind it. Homura braced herself and leaned forward, brandishing her shield, but held back her power for the moment. For an endless minute, all they could hear was the staccato bullet-like sound of the beams ricocheting off Kisuke's shield. Before long, though, the wall of light began to crack. Jagged lines spiderwebbed out from impact sites. Kisuke poured everything he had into the spell and held until it shattered. He took a knee as Orihime stepped forward and threw all of her strength into her shield, the shinigami slow to recover due to the sheer number of massively powerful kidō spells he had used in the long battle. Orihime's shield soon became chipped and pockmarked. Sweat poured down the girl's face and her hands shook.

“Hold out as long as you can, Orihime!” Kisuke shouted. The air was so thick with projectiles that Homura wouldn't be able to flee even if she stopped time. Time, time, they needed time! He glanced at Homura. “How long?!”

Understanding his intent, Homura glanced at the sand timer in her shield, gauged her magic, and bit out, “Four minutes!”

Kisuke grit his teeth. He and Orihime were probably going to die protecting the girl.

So be it.

He centered himself and prepared to cast another kidō when Orihime's shield failed. It collapsed before he was ready, though, and Homura stepped in front of him, thrust her shield forward, and flared her brilliant purple reiatsu to protect the two of them. Kisuke stared up at her as Orihime and Tatsuki fell, pierced by the lances. He was torn between being furious at her for risking herself when she was their trump card and surprised that she bothered to protect him.

Of course, the attack stopped then. They looked around and found that the entirety of Karakura and Naruki were linked to the Hōgyoku by rays of shimmering light. To their side, the beams piercing Orihime and Tatsuki burst and bound them as though in harnesses. It made no damn sense until the rays retracted and tore the girls' souls from their bodies, snapped their Chains of Fate, and drew the slack-faced souls skyward.

“What's happening?!” Homura demanded, not caring that she sounded panicked.

Kisuke staggered to his feet and stared. As far as he could see, human souls were being reeled up from the streets and buildings toward the Hōgyoku and the Incubator that was apparently above it.

“Mister Urahara? _Mister Urahara?!_ ”

As the souls were drawn along, they broke down into indistinct orbs of reishi that made Kisuke deliriously think of hitodama. The reiatsu of many shinigami blinked out of existence. Kisuke supposed they had been snared and absorbed, too. The light of the many souls gathered like Walpurgisnacht's remains had. The Hōgyoku flashed bright indigo. The gathered souls rapidly condensed, the light they cast shifting into brighter and brighter gold.

A Hōgyoku.

A Jūreichi.

A hundred thousand souls, give or take.

“I'll be damned,” he said, shaken.

“What?” Homura demanded as she lowered her shield. “ _What's happening?!_ ”

“It actually made a King's Key.” Kisuke vaguely registered that his voice sounded like dull surprise. He couldn't quite believe the words as they fell out of his mouth.

Homura glanced between him, her shield, and the distant glow that faded a bit and looked more like a shining object than a ball of light. “A King's Key is--?”

“The only way to gain entrance to the Soul King's Realm,” he answered, falling into automated lecture mode. “The Soul King is the linchpin of existence. It regulates the flow and balance of souls among all the dimensions.”

A sound that was not truly _sound_ at all reverberated through the atmosphere, the tumbling of ancient locks opening.

“If the Soul King was to be destroyed, reality would collapse. Were it replaced, its replacement could shape the worlds as it wills.”

Homura's face slowly contorted in horror.

Kisuke turned to look at her, dread plain on his face. “I think the Incubator is a much bigger problem than any of us ever thought possible,” he said blankly.

Reiatsu flared up in the cloud cover. The huge golden missile that was Soi Fon's bankai screamed toward the King's Key. One of the oversized Incubator limbs shielded it while the other batted the missile away with enough force to counter its homing properties. The resulting explosion obliterated eastern Karakura. The Incubator's limbs settled into an offering position, holding the King's Key to the heavens. Storm clouds were suddenly propelled away from it, forming a perfect circle of blue morning sky with the King's Key in its center like a small sun. The air around it shimmered like a heat haze as a sharp clunk sounded and the city directly beneath was crushed flat under the severe pressure of immense reiatsu.

§ x § x §

In the northern sky, an old man watched almost his entire command structure crumble before him. All life in the city was a complete loss and an enemy was trying to breach the King's Realm.

There was nothing left to lose. Best to end things quickly.

Stone-faced, Captain-Commander Yamamoto stood tall and rumbled, “Bankai. Zanka no Tachi.”

§ x § x §

Homura sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth at the sudden, intense heat. Steam rose around her as the fallen rain evaporated. She was startled out of her stunned stare when Kisuke shook her arm. She looked at his face and found it desperate and near-crazed.

When he had her attention, Kisuke pressed, “You _must_ describe all of this to the other me. _All_ of it. Hōgyoku, King's Key, _all of it_. What it looked like, what it felt like, _everything_. This isn't just about saving your friends anymore.”

Buildings began to smoke. Trees and telephone poles nearby spontaneously burst into flame. Homura wobbled on her feet and blinked. It only took several moments for her to feel like she had been wandering beneath a desert sun for weeks.

“Go back in time now,” Kisuke said urgently.

Homura looked at her shield. “I can't yet!”

Fire raged in the city center, the inferno spreading outward as everything was baked so dry it all became kindling. It hurt to breathe. The air smelled of ashes, burnt rubber, and charred meat.

“Go _now!_ ”

Flames blossomed in the sky where a small figure met the Incubator's limbs and incinerated them. The Hōgyoku strobed like the world's largest flash grenade and instantly regenerated the limbs.

“I _can't!_ ” Homura shrilled and desperately watched the sand trickle through her timer.

Kisuke fell to his knees. “You have to,” he rasped through parched , bleeding lips.

Homura's breath came in painful little gasps as she struggled to remain conscious-- a battle Kisuke lost. She didn't bother paying attention to the battle in the sky, instead using every ounce of will she had to focus entirely on her shield's sand timer. Her legs fell out from under her as she concentrated her magic on countering the damage being done to her body long enough to survive to the turnback point. To conserve magic, she disengaged what she thought of as her pain buffer and arched into the agony of something that went far beyond any sunburn with a rough scream. Her battle costume had just begun to smoke when she _felt_ the last grain of sand fall. Homura blindly grabbed the edge of her shield, ignored the sizzle of her bare skin against super-heated metal, and sharply twisted it into a complete inversion.

She had never been more glad to hear that familiar click.

The world around her stopped. Everything was utterly still for a long second. The golden shaft and hellish plume in the distance were rendered more terrifying by the extra frozen instant to really look at them. Then reality shattered around Homura like so much glass and she was hurtling backwards, fragmented images spinning around her like a kaleidoscope as she lost consciousness.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Let's~ do~ the time~ warp~ again~!
> 
> I would like to take a moment to thank you for reading this far. Your responses have been wonderfully encouraging for me. I never expected this degree of response. Thank you so much! See you on the story's first anniversary~! ;)


	36. ZWISCHENSPIEL + FÜNFUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy first birthday to this baby. *throws confetti*
> 
> Someone asked for clarification of my chapter subtitles. They are intended to be algebraic expressions labeling the different timelines. It's a mathy tie-in to the mathy title of the fic and is useful for flashbacks.
> 
> X = the variable representing the first PMMM timeline we are aware of (I think it's unlikely Homura would be the first girl in history to make a time travel wish. Therefor, we don't know how many timelines have existed before PMMM's first anime timeline.)
> 
> N = the variable representing the unknown number of repeated timelines Homura has personally lived through
> 
> X+N = the timeline in which Homura goes to Karakura for the first time
> 
> whatever number is added to that (X+N+1, X+N+54, etc.) = the number of repeats Homura causes after going to Karakura for the first time
> 
> Therefore, Timeline X+N+5 would be the fifth timeline after the one in which she went to Karakura for the first time. And so on.
> 
> I hope that clears things up.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ZWISCHENSPIEL**

**TIMELINE X+N+54**

Kisuke's tea had long since gone cold by the time Homura finished her description of the first timeline in which they had met. Tessai had long since given up on any pretense of standing in the background and joined them at the table with Jinta and Ururu. The four Urahara Shop residents stared dumbly at the girl, who remained cool and poised.

“Holy fuck,” Jinta summarized.

“A threat on the lives of the Kurosaki girls, you said,” Kisuke murmured morbidly.

Homura hummed and traced one finger along the rim of her empty teacup. “I may have understated the severity of the problem to begin with.” She mused that she had spent far too much time with the scientist-- she was picking up his habits.

“Just a bit,” Kisuke said drily, one corner of his mouth quirking into a slight smile. “You seem more familiar with us than that one timeline would suggest.” He looked Homura in the eyes. “How many repeats have you done since then?”

“This is the fifty-fourth repeat.”

More dumbstruck staring.

“Why so many?” asked Ururu.

“That's a long story. Much of the detail would be best studied in the documentation I've collected, but I will give a summary,” Homura answered. “Then you can just show the others the video.”

“What video?” Kisuke asked with a straight face.

“You have surveillance on this room that you turn on when something interesting is happening,” Homura said calmly. She looked up at three particular spots in the room-- hidden cameras-- and twiddled her fingers at them. “You've taped me every single timeline. You may as well make use of it.” She turned to Tessai as Kisuke stared at her in surprise. “May I have more tea, please, Mr. Tsukabishi? Your rooibos blend is excellent.”

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**FÜNFUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Homura's eyes snapped open and she bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath, still certain, for a moment, that she was being crushed by heat that had a physical weight, suffocating, _burning_ \--

White walls. Gauzy curtains. A breeze bearing the scent of cherry blossoms wafting in an open window. Blurry vision. An ache in her chest.

Back in the hospital. Yet another March sixteenth.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, Madoka was alive again, and Homura was having a panic attack.

The world was suddenly a more dangerous and confusing place. Homura was newly aware of even further depths of atrocity in the world of magical girls. Aware, but with very little understanding. Not understanding was a loss of control that frightened her. She was safe for the moment, at least. She hoped. God, what if she wasn't? What if-- _Shut up, brain, shut up, shut up, shut up!_

Homura flopped back on the hospital bed and blindly reached for its controls with the ease of long practice. She lowered the bed flat and tilted her head back to help her body gulp in more air with every gasp. She wanted to curl up but forced her arms to rest on the pillow by her head, elbows out, to keep her chest open. Every breath tested the ache in her chest left over from her heart surgery. When her breathing finally eased, she slowly drew her hands over her eyes and tried to order her thoughts. It was extremely difficult. It felt like her mind was trying to run in every direction at once. The first coherent thought she settled on was _It's a good thing I'm off the monitors_. A flock of nurses concerned about her racing heartbeat would have been an unwelcome complication.

It took longer than she would have liked to center herself, but she eventually did-- just in time to float through her discharge on a cloud of exhaustion. Homura let the clerk from her uncle's lawyer's law firm handle everything without paying attention. Room packed and papers signed, she actually slept on the drive to her townhouse. The clerk got her settled and this time around was concerned enough to offer to stay the night. Homura waved her off after compromising, allowing the woman to get dinner for her. The click of the lock as Homura shut her out was a great relief, but she stood with her hands flat on the door and leaned into it. She inspected the grain of the wood until the sound of the adult's car had receded into the distance.

Homura turned, leaned back against the door, and slid down to the floor. She went through a familiar routine. First, she manifested her Soul Gem. It was dim and cloudy from using so much magic to survive the end of the timeline. Looked like a Witch hunt was in order. Second, she used the Gem's magic to completely heal her heart beyond the scope the surgery could manage. Third, she listlessly removed her glasses and tossed them aside before using her magic on her eyes until they, too, were better than human medicine could achieve. Next, she usually ate and immediately went on a weapons heist to restock. She had far graver things to worry about this time.

A creature of order, Homura dug out a fresh notebook and tried to organize and plan. It helped her feel more in control. She stared at the blank page for a long time, unable to find a place to start. So _much_ had happened. Half an hour passed before she hesitantly put pen to paper. She started by sketching out a rough social structure map about how the Karakura fighters and the shinigami military were related, then started listing major facts.

Karakura was an Incubator-free zone. Most of the time. Probably.

The Incubators were deceptive about far more than she had thought.

Shinigami were real and could be aimed at Witches and Incubators.

The history between magical girls and shinigami was in doubt in her mind because she didn't believe a damn thing the Incubator said anymore.

Shinigami could purify Witches and revert their Grief Seeds into Soul Gems so they could pass on without being collected by the Incubator.

Inoue Orihime could purify Soul Gems without a Grief Seed, revert Grief Seeds into Soul Gems, and revive magical girls. She should probably take pains to keep the incubator from learning about that.

There was much more to Walpurgisnacht's offense and defense than had ever been apparent before. Why had so much about it changed?

The Incubator was capable of making objects that freaked out shinigami and could break into... heaven??????

There were terrifying implications to a shady creature such as the Incubator gaining access to that... dimension??????????

Urahara had made some kind of mental connection between one of the objects, Soul Gems, and wishes, but hadn't elaborated.

Whatever had countered the Incubator at the end with the fire and heat (who/what????) was frighteningly powerful and not to be crossed.

And so on. She wrote down as many new terms and explanations as she could remember. She finished the list with “Hogoku(sp???)” and “King's Key?????” Even though she had more question marks and unknowns than answers, seeing it all laid out was soothing. It got her mind back into a logical sphere apart from the shocking near-apocalyptic rending of the heavens she had witnessed.

After some thought, Homura concluded that the threat of the Incubator doing whatever it had shown itself capable of was equal to or greater than the danger to Madoka from contracting. After all, Orihime Inoue could undo any progression toward becoming a Witch. Her goal had always, always been to save Madoka no matter what. It looked like she'd have to save... the world? ...in order to save Madoka.

Fine. She'd pull it off or die trying. Madoka was worth it.

Now what?

Homura sat back and stared at the notebook in a pool of light from the nearest lamp in her midnight townhouse, pursing her lips and tapping the pen on the paper. She knew the original plan. And she knew Urahara had said to scratch the plan and go straight to him with warnings of doom. But did she trust him? Entirely, unreservedly?

She thought of his casual interrogation games, of his uncanny ability to read and react to her so quickly.

No. But.

“ _I won't let him do anything to you and if the questions get too upsetting I'll make him stop.”_

“ _Having Ichigo Kurosaki on your side is the best life insurance policy you could ever acquire!”_

“ _Kurosaki is obnoxiously powerful and bizarrely influential among shinigami.”_

“ _Honestly, the best thing you can do for yourself in any timeline is get Ichigo on your side.”_

“ _The shinigami government--!” “Will take you_ over my dead body _.”_

She trusted Ichigo Kurosaki. And the rest of the family, but the young man seemed to have the most leverage over everyone she still couldn't rule out as a threat. So. How to proceed? She had Ichigo's phone number, but if she went straight to him and outed everything in a way that would reveal Karin and Yuzu with no warning, the girls might not be cooperative. With as much as she realized she still didn't know, she didn't need to give anyone in Karakura reason to resent her.

That settled it. Go to the twins first, seek Ichigo and Dr. Kurosaki through them, then approach Urahara from behind a fourfold shield of Kurosaki integrity. She'd work out the details in the morning. First things first: Homura needed a Grief Seed to clean her Soul Gem-- and offer to Urahara, she supposed. Then she needed to restock her arsenal.

Homura pulled the ribbons out of her childish braids and unwound them as she planned her next hunt and weapons heist.

§ x § x §

Homura woke late the next morning, nightmares of burning Soul Gem tornadoes still dancing behind her eyelids. She spent most of the day nibbling leftover takeout while studying the calendars and diaries the others had made for her. Ichigo and his friends were settling into their condo. The Urahara Shop staff was doing Urahara Shop things. Yoruichi was amusing herself by finding cat-haters in Yokohama and being obnoxious to them. Captain Hitsugaya was running his division in Soul Society. Dr. Kurosaki was running the clinic and the girls were starting school.

Good all around. It was a Thursday, though, and Ichigo wouldn't be in Karakura until Saturday. And none of his other friends had returned to Karakura so early. She'd have to do something about that-- she needed at least Orihime to be there. And the guy with glasses-- Ishida?-- had seemed sharp-witted and done something strange with that bow. She wanted to know more about him.

Homura packed, called Mitakihara Middle School to fake-timidly say she would be absent for extra recovery time, and headed to the train station to get lost in the evening southbound commute.

§ x § x §

Homura spent Thursday night in an unoccupied apartment on the northwest edge of Naruki City, hopefully far enough from the railway corridor to not be surprised by the Pumpkin Witch and her Familiars. She also hoped the distance between her and Urahara Shop would let her magical signature blend into the masses of other, weaker magic. Reiatsu. Whatever. Whether it would work was in question-- even at such distance, the spiritually-inclined people she had met in the previous timeline formed a constellation of brighter signatures throughout the city. Hopefully her presence being unfamiliar to the locals would let her escape attention instead of attract it.

After hemming and hawing over how to initiate a meeting, she decided a direct approach was best. Mid-afternoon found Homura calmly waiting at the gate to the twins' school in her Mitakihara uniform and book bag to look like she had come directly from a different school. Aside from a few curious glances, she was largely ignored as she monitored her once-friends' magic. The two met and headed for the gate. Seeing their happy faces which she had so recently seen slack in death was a source of both hurt and hope. She took a calming breath.

“Karin, Yuzu,” Homura called pleasantly as they drew near. The girls stopped and looked around. Homura gave them a little wave. “I hope you don't mind me coming early. I really wanted to talk to you.” Karin and Yuzu looked confused until Homura tossed her hair over her shoulder with an exaggerated movement, flashing her Soul Gem ring and pulsing her magic ever so slightly. Homura stared directly into Karin's eyes and smoothly said, “Then I thought I'd help you find the thing you lost by the train tracks.”

The sisters stared from her face to her ring. Karin glanced around cautiously. “Uh, yeah. Right. The thing.”

Homura offered a tight smile. “Where would you like to talk?” Let them at least control the setting.

The sisters exchanged significant looks and leaned together to murmur a quick plan. Karin lifted her chin and nodded to one side, then took the lead. Yuzu trailed behind Homura. Both sisters were obviously tense and expecting an attack-- their first encounter with a belligerent magical girl had really stuck with them. They led her to a park in Naruki City. Smart-- wide open space where neither party would be blocked from fleeing and far away from Urahara Shop. The girls led her to the far end of the park, out of sight of the playground. Homura calmly sat at the decrepit wooden picnic table they found there and smoothed her skirt as the sisters decided their positions. Yuzu perched sideways on the opposite bench and Karin plopped onto the table itself. Neither wanted obstacles blocking their legs if things went badly. Homura noted this and made a point of crossing her ankles under the table and primly folding her hands together on its top in a bid to look nonthreatening.

The Kurosaki sisters stared at Homura. “So,” Karin finally said. “What brings you to Karakura and how do you know who we are?”

“Did you follow us last time we met Kyubey?” Yuzu asked with an uncharacteristically hard face.

“No,” Homura answered Yuzu first. She glanced back to Karin. “My name is Homura Akemi. I am from Mitakihara.” Both sisters raised their brows. “I am not here to fight you. I came to help you and ask for help. I know my story will sound very far-fetched but there really is a set of major crises approaching.”

“Oh?” Karin drawled as she leaned on one hand. “How far-fetched? It'll take a lot to impress us.”

Homura steadied herself. “It starts with the fact that I have time magic. I can freeze time to fight and even go back in time. This isn't the first time I've met you.”

Karin outright laughed incredulously while Yuzu looked skeptical but worried. Homura clenched her fingers together and frowned. Even dozens of repetitions didn't take the sting out of reactions like Karin's.

Karin wiped a mirthful tear from her eye and took in Homura's stony countenance. “Wait, you're serious? I thought you were breaking the ice so whatever's really going on will look reasonable.”

Homura pursed her lips. “No. I am quite serious.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I can prove my time-stopping ability to you in a labyrinth. I know you prefer to avoid notice from your family and the shinigami.”

The sisters tensed. Yuzu frowned. “Kyubey could have told you that.”

Homura took a deep breath. “You contracted a year ago to save your brother, Ichigo. Your father and brother are both shinigami. Your brother lost his powers after a shinigami war but regained them after you contracted. Something about a sword.” She looked at Karin, whose eyes were wide. “Tōshirō Hitsugaya is your best friend. He is a shinigami captain.” Homura glanced between the two. “You didn't tell-- Kyubey any of this because you thought-- he would refuse to contract with you due to a history of magical girl conflict with shinigami.” She raised her brows and waited for a response.

Both Kurosaki sisters gaped. Karin's mouth opened and closed but words failed her. Yuzu was pale. Homura decided to let it sink in instead of giving them more information while shocked.

Yuzu was the first to pull herself together. “If you time-traveled to see us, something... something really bad happened, didn't it?” She chewed her lip.

Homura hummed sadly. “Many bad things. I still don't understand them all, though. That's where I need help.” She stared at them evenly. “The explanation of the basics is going to be hard on you, though.”

“You think so, huh?” Karin drawled, unable to completely hide her uneasiness behind casual bravado. “Hit me.”

Deep breath. Their reaction hadn't been disastrous last time, but you never knew. Start delicate. “The-- Kyubey hasn't been entirely honest with you. Isn't honest with with the majority of girls it contracts. Not until it's too late.”

The sisters went still. “Too late for what?” Yuzu whispered.

“Too late for you to back out of the contract. It doesn't explain the consequences of the creation of a Soul Gem.”

Karin and Yuzu exchanged a look. Karin hazarded, “The consequence is that we have to fight Witches.”

Homura bit her lip. “What is a Witch?”

Karin's face twisted in confusion. “You're a magical girl and you don't know that?”

“Let me rephrase,” Homura said with less patience. “Where do Witches come from?”

Dumbfounded silence. “We... we thought they were a kind of Hollow only girls can sense,” said Yuzu. “Um, do you know what--?”

“Yes, you taught me about Hollows in the last timeline,” Homura replied. “And they may very well be a kind of Hollow. No one had the chance to really investigate last time. But Witches are formed from a specific kind of soul.” After a moment of blankness, horror slowly dawned on Karin's face. Homura plowed on. “If our Soul Gems become too corrupted and we start to slip into despair and insanity, our Gems turn completely black and transform into Grief Seeds. Our souls are then reborn as Witches. Then the cycle continues with newly-contracted magical girls who will defeat us and become Witches in turn.”

Fear and horror flooded their magic. Karin was still and silent, eyes wide. Yuzu started to hyperventilate as she thought about it. Tears welled in her eyes. Karin held her hands to her face took a few deep breaths, and scrubbed her hands up and down her face. She stopped with her hands at her jaw, head tilted up to stare sightlessly at the sky.

“I thought that if our Gems got dark it just meant our magic would be weak,” Karin said dully. She looked down and massaged her temples. “It makes sense. It makes so much sense. I should have seen it. He tore our souls out. Our souls. Of course we'd have a fancy kind of Hollowfication. Of course.” Her face went dark and she looked at Homura, eyes hard. “We made a deal with the devil, didn't we?”

“K-kyubey didn't explain any of this!” cried Yuzu.

Homura scowled. “Of course it didn't. It only explains enough of the system to lure girls into contracting. It says it has no concept of deceit, yet it constantly lies by omission to achieve its goals.”

“And those goals are...?” Karin asked darkly.

“Harvesting our corrupted souls to collect energy for the greater good, supposedly,” Homura answered quietly. “But the end of the last timeline suggests something... far more sinister. Possibly the creation of a... tool or weapon. I'm not sure exactly what it was.”

Yuzu leaned over the table, cradled her face in her hands, and sobbed. Karin seemed to be in too much shock to really react. Homura, reminded of Madoka's usual reaction, hesitantly reached over and brushed her fingers across Yuzu's wrist. Yuzu tearfully looked up at her.

Homura faltered for a moment, then steeled herself. “Be strong. We will overcome this.” She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

Yuzu sobbed again. “How?!”

Another deep breath. This was bombshell number two. “First, we go to your father and brother and get them on our side. Then we approach Mr. Urahara. Then we approach the shinigami.”

The sisters recoiled. “But Kyubey said shinigami--!” Yuzu gasped.

“Do you really believe anything that creature says anymore?” Homura snapped. Yuzu flinched and wilted. Homura's face softened. “In the last timeline, I had to approach them. They took it well. Except for the fact you were tricked into selling your souls. All their anger was directed at the Incubator, though.”

“Incubator?” Karin said with a furrowed brow.

“Kyubey is just a cutesy name that creature uses to sound harmless,” Homura explained. “It's short for Incubator. In- _cue-bay_ -tor.”

Karin's lip curled in disgust. “That's not creepy or suspicious at all,” she said sarcastically.

Yuzu wiped her tears. “How can they help us?”

Homura settled back once more. “I didn't meet any of you until the very end of the last timeline, so they didn't have time to do much, but they figured out a great deal in a short amount of time. They identified several lines of investigation to pursue. And they figured out that Orihime Inoue can purify Soul Gems without using a Grief Seed and can revert Grief Seeds back into Soul Gems. As long as she's on our side, we shouldn't have to worry much about turning.” After considering for a moment, she added, “And if things _do_ go poorly, I can always travel back in time again to undo it.”

Both sisters lit up with hope.

“The shinigami were furious when they found out what the Incubator has been doing right under their noses. Especially your friend, Captain Hitsugaya,” Homura continued with a nod Karin's way. “The end of the timeline was... chaotic. Mr. Urahara figured out something at the end but didn't have a chance to explain it to me. He told me to describe everything that happened to him-- the him in this timeline. I guess he thought this him would understand what he figured out just from that.” Homura pursed her lips and tapped her fingers on the table as the twins parsed the strangeness of the sentence. “Everyone who found out that I can time-travel wrote letters to themselves to make them believe me. I need your help to gather everyone so we can figure things out and make plans before the situation deteriorates.”

“Deteriorates how?” asked Karin.

“'Karakura-completely-destroyed-and-a-lot-of-shinigami-killed' deteriorates,” Homura answered bluntly.

The sisters went white again. “That... would be bad,” Karin said for lack of anything else.

“What happened?” Yuzu asked.

Homura sighed. “I'd rather explain it only once and to everyone at the same time, if you don't mind. It's complicated.”

Karin scratched her head. “I guess I can respect that.” She sighed deeply. “So, what's your game plan?”

“I thought we would somehow convince your brother and his friends to all come here, then tell them and your father the basics before anything else. Mr. Urahara was tricky with his questioning last time and I want your father and brother there to rein him in if necessary. We will have to find ways to contact Captain Hitsugaya and Yoruichi to get them to come to the meeting.”

“Urahara can do that,” Karin said with a dismissive wave.

Homura nodded. “Then, once everyone is briefed and Mr. Urahara has a chance to study the research material his other self gave me, we will hunt the Witch by the train tracks together so they can all experience a labyrinth. Beyond that... I don't know.”

“It's a good start,” Karin declared. She looked to Yuzu. “Ichi-nii will come running if we say we're in trouble. That part should be easy.”

Yuzu nodded, slow-burning anger replacing her distress. “Onii-chan and Daddy won't let anything happen to us. Let's do it.”

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for sticking with me, guys. :)


	37. SECHSUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Apologies for the long wait. I explain it with choosing to carefully re-read my own story to make sure I'm not fudging details in the coming chapters, working on a fun little project that might pop up one of these days, and personal medical shenanigans/tests/pain that have been making me spend more time in bed. I actually have another test in the morning; please cross your fingers for me. Thank you for your patience and understanding. (u.u)
> 
> Oh, another time-eater was firing up Photoshop and starting to make the PMMM-style “production notes” I pondered doing in the past. There is now a deviantArt account named Corisanna. It currently has 'shoops of Witch Beatrix and her Familiars and my notes about them. More will be added one of these days.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

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**SECHSUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Isshin had a long day at the clinic, hands full juggling household burns, flu season's last hurrah, and painstakingly plucking light bulb shards out of a woman's foot. He was glad to finally turn the sign to closed and join his girls in the house. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed a third, unfamiliar reiatsu with his daughters-- power on par with Karin's, if not greater. All three signatures felt... tumultuous? Hmm. When he rounded the corner into the kitchen he found a girl he had never seen before peering over Yuzu's shoulder at the stove, paying serious attention to an apparent cooking lesson. Karin was lounging at the table by a stack of closed text books and completed homework. Unusual-- the girls usually waited until after dinner to do that.

“Well, hello, girls!” Isshin called with a grin.

The three looked up at him. Yuzu said, “Hi, Daddy!” and Karin said, “Hey, Dad. 'Sup?”

Dad. Not Goat-Face. If that wasn't a sign something was wrong, he didn't know what was. He kept smiling. “Busy day at the clinic. Ah, I'm so glad to see your lovely faces at the end of a long day! Makes all the burns and stitches and snot worth it!” Karin rolled her eyes, but it seemed forced. Yuzu gave a strained giggle. The new girl looked up at him with a melancholy frown and something like regret. Worrisome. “I see you brought home a friend! Hello, I've never met you before,” Isshin said cheerfully. “What's your name?” If he hadn't already been alert for signs of something wrong, he may have missed the brief flash of hurt that crossed her face.

The girl stepped away from the stove, bowed politely, rose, and brushed long dark hair over her shoulder. “I am Homura Akemi. It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Kurosaki,” she said gravely.

“So formal!” Isshin laughed. “Don't worry about that. It's nice to meet you. Make yourself at home.”

Homura's face stayed serious. “Thank you, sir,” she said in a distantly polite tone.

“Daddy, Homura's staying for dinner,” Yuzu declared. Zero room for argument.

“Oh?” Isshin decided to try to argue anyway. See if he could tease out what was going on. He looked at the solemn girl. “Won't your parents miss you?”

“My parents are dead,” Homura said in the tone most people used for disinterested talk about the weather.

Awkward. “Ah, I'm sorry.” The girl shrugged slightly. “You must live with someone who will miss you for dinner, though?”

“No.” Homura tilted her head and watched him keenly. “My uncle is out of the country on business most of the time. I live by myself and usually eat takeout.”

Isshin frowned hard. “That's no way for a girl to live. Someone should be taking care of you. You're too young to be on your own.”

Satisfaction briefly crossed Homura's face before she shrugged again and looked away dispassionately. Strange. Karin squinted at him with her _I Am Judging You_ face. Yuzu glared with the fierce heat of twin lasers. They clearly wanted him to drop that subject and shut up. Ouch.

Isshin sighed. “I'm sorry. Of course you're welcome for dinner.”

Homura murmured something conciliatory and went back to observing Yuzu's skills. Yuzu sniffed that dinner would be ready in ten minutes. Isshin mumbled something and shuffled away to go change out of his work clothes. He nearly felt dismissed from his own home.

Dinner was stilted. The girls tried to make conversation about school subjects, but were obviously on edge. Isshin noticed the small looks directed at him in quick flashes-- wariness, dread, and what might have been shame from his daughters; inexplicable sadness and caution from Homura. The longer the meal dragged on, the more raw Isshin's nerves got. When all three girls furtively hurried to busy themselves doing dishes, Isshin just sat and openly stared at them while trying to figure out what was bothering them. His presence? Schoolgirl drama? Something else?

Karin noticed his stare and defensively snapped, “What are _you_ looking at, Dad?” before going back to drying plates with a rough turn.

Dad again instead of Goat-Face. He didn't like it. “Is something wrong, girls?”

Their stillness was as absolute as it was sudden. Three faces turned to him and looked like deer in headlights.

Isshin scowled his concern. “Don't bother trying to deny it. Something has you all nervous. Are any of you in trouble?”

The girls traded cautious glances. Yuzu looked to her father and spoke for them. “We need to talk to you, Daddy.” She and her sister looked grim with shades of the guilt they had shown when they had broken something when they were small. Homura's face had gone unreadable and her reiatsu felt forcibly calm.

What had his girls gotten into? What did this other girl have to do with them?

Isshin rubbed his eyes and sighed. He waved at the table. “Sit down, girls. Let's hear it out.”

They quietly gathered at the table. He couldn't help but notice that all three clustered together on the side of the table opposite him instead of surrounding it like during their meal. Was it intentional or subconscious? Setting themselves in opposition to him? Using the table as defense? They sat and looked at him uncertainly. Everything about their behavior had his alarm bells clanging.

After a minute of staring, Yuzu took a deep breath and began, “We didn't mean for it to get... bad. We thought we were doing something good, but we got tricked.”

Well, that was both vague and parentally terrifying. “Tricked into what, sweetheart?”

“First, we know you're a shinigami, Dad,” said Karin.

Isshin's mind screeched to a halt. “What?”

“So we know you can help with spirit stuff.”

“What?”

Karin rolled her eyes. “We've known for awhile. Get over it.”

“Bwuh-- How long?” He thought he had been so thorough about hiding that.

“Since the end of the war, Daddy,” Yuzu answered.

“You know about the war?” he asked, surprised.

“Ichi-nii's an open book, Goat-Face,” Karin drawled.

Isshin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He should have known.

“Anyway, we kinda got ourselves into a big spiritual mess. Can you ask Ichi-nii to bring his friends home with him?”

Disturbing. “What kind of mess?”

“A really big mess,” Yuzu answered guiltily.

“Define _really big_.”

His girls shifted uneasily and looked at each other. Neither wanted to really broach it.

Homura clinically explained, “We have all been tricked into selling our souls for access to imperfect shinigami powers to protect the people we care about.” Isshin turned to her in horror. The twins looked down at the table, not wanting to see the face he made. Homura boldly stared straight into his eyes. “The being who tricked us approached us when we were at our most vulnerable. The contract was not presented to us honestly. The terms of the contract were not fully explained. Without intervention, we will eventually... I think the term is Hollowfy. Then the being who tricked us will eat our souls.”

Pasty white, Isshin thought he would throw up. His girls--

“I approached Karin and Yuzu because I gained access to key information about the being's plans and the... abilities of your son and his friends, as well as one Kisuke Urahara and the shinigami of Soul Society,” Homura continued in a way that reminded Isshin of his former Third Seat giving an after action report. “I have reason to believe it would be wisest to explain the basics to you, your son, and his friends before approaching Mr. Urahara and the shinigami in general.”

Isshin furrowed his brow. “Why?”

Homura glanced away uncomfortably then looked him in the eye again. “We have information that makes us think the shinigami government has been... harsh with girls like us in the past. And that Mr. Urahara can get... aggressively curious. Especially in light of certain details.” She pursed her lips and searched his face. “I... I think you and your son will react better. Just in case the others don't react well. You both are strong and I've heard your son is very influential.”

Isshin stared at her, mind whirling. She had openly outlined a desire to use one set of people as a physical and social shield against another. A politically sound strategy. Her neat, logical plan bespoke someone older than she looked. Tōshirō had been the same way, but he actually _had_ been a much older, slow-aging spirit so it made sense. Who _was_ Homura Akemi, really? And how did she know about... well, everything?

He sighed deeply and palmed his face. The girls silently let him think. After a couple minutes of racing thoughts, Isshin straightened and tiredly searched their faces-- all three of them. “Why... _why_ would you agree to such a thing?”

Karin bristled. “Ichi-nii was in danger!”

“He almost died, Daddy!” Yuzu cried.

“What?!”

“We were the only ones who could find the things attacking him! Even Urahara couldn't sense one when he was _right on top of it!_ ”

“We had to protect Onii-chan like he protected us!” Yuzu finished tearfully.

Sometimes Isshin cursed the selfless protective streak of the combined Shiba and Kurosaki bloodlines. “What are you talking about? Your brother can take care of himself.”

“Now, yeah. But not last year,” Karin said bitterly. “We barely managed to save him without the powers. And that was just getting him away from the danger. The Witch could have hunted him down again if we didn't contract and take care of it.”

“You're talking about witches now?” Isshin asked, lost. “Black cats and broomsticks...?”

“A technical term for beings similar to Hollows,” Homura interrupted. Isshin looked to her. She was disturbingly calm. “The being that tricked us is called the Incubator. When we contract, our access to our powers makes us magical girls.”

“What.” Could this get any more absurd?

“When magical girls deteriorate and... Hollowfy..., they become Witches. Witches exist in a pocket dimension and lure victims with low spiritual power into either entering their labyrinth whole or committing suicide, then devour their souls. As far as I know, only magical girls can detect Witches.”

Isshin stared hard, gears whirling in his head. His eyes shifted to his daughters. “Lures victims with low spiritual power...,” he murmured.

“We contracted a year ago when a Witch snared Onii-chan and tried to make him jump off the cell phone tower by the high school,” Yuzu said quietly.

“A year ago,” Isshin said blankly.

“The time we told Urahara there had been a Hollow and Ichi-nii tried to help fight it, but he forgot because of a concussion and we all passed it off as him being stupid and getting hypoglycemia,” Karin explained. She looked down. “We lied. We had to fight Ichi-nii and knock him out to stop him from climbing and....” Her lip quivered. “We _couldn't_ leave that Witch on the loose.”

Isshin's face dipped down, eyes unfocused as he stretched his memory and went over what he remembered of the alleged Hollow attack. “A year ago,” he echoed dully. “You... you sold your souls a year ago.” And _he hadn't noticed_. He'd just thought their reiatsu had matured. What kind of father was he if he didn't know the difference? On top of that, if they were to believed, he had nearly lost his son, too. Feeling much older, he turned back to Homura. “Why did you... contract?”

Face mulishly cool, Homura said, “To save my best friend's life.” Matter of fact. Zero regret. A shiver of muted rage in her reiatsu. Hopefully for whatever had endangered her friend or tricked her instead of at him for asking. She sat straighter and lifted her chin imperiously. “I think it would be most efficient if we refrained from further detailed explanation until your son and his friends arrive.” End of subject.

Isshin looked at his daughters. They had both adopted stubborn faces to match Homura's, though theirs were less sure-- following her lead. Yuzu chewed her lip and dipped her chin. “Are... are you mad at us, Daddy?”

He was an absolute hurricane of jumbled emotions, but-- “No, baby.” Just tired, protective, and angry at the world-- and himself. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, then looked up and held out his arms. “Come here, girls.” The sisters rose and hurried to him. The family clung to one another anxiously. “We'll figure this out,” Isshin murmured as Yuzu's shoulders hitched with suppressed sobs. Isshin laid his cheek on Yuzu's head and made comforting hushing sounds. His eyes wandered to Homura, who was watching them expressionlessly.

The girl was functionally alone in the world. She was dealing with this mess alone. Isshin's heart went out to her. He lifted one arm and held it out in invitation, the father in him wanting to help her. Homura's eyes darted from his hand to his face, then looked aside resolutely. She sat still with her hands folded in her lap and looked at the poster of Isshin's late wife, face unreadable.

§ x § x §

“Ishida! For the last time, stop moving my stuff!”

“Stop leaving it in stupid places, then, Kurosaki,” the Quincy retorted waspishly.

Chad sighed as he tuned his guitar in the living room. Orihime blithely kept arranging books on shelves.

“They're not stupid places! They make perfect sense!”

“To an idiot, maybe.”

“ _What?_ ”

Chad strummed a few notes. Still off. Next time he traveled so far, he'd carry the instrument himself. Baggage handlers had no respect for fragile packages.

An ear-grating ringtone shrilled through the condo. “Dammit, what does the old man want now?” Ichigo grumbled as he jogged into the living room and scooped the phone up off the coffee table. “What?”

His father didn't greet him obnoxiously as usual. “Ichigo,” he said solemnly.

Ichigo's face automatically fell. “What's wrong? What happened?” His worried tone caused his three friends to stop what they were doing and look at him sharply.

Isshin sighed. “The danger isn't immediate--”

“Danger?!” Ichigo twitched as Uryū darted up and made hand gestures that implied if Ichigo didn't switch to speaker phone, he'd take the phone and do it himself. Ichigo complied to get the Quincy out of his face.

“Yes,” Isshin said tiredly. “Do you have classes tomorrow?”

“Not if there's trouble,” Ichigo replied immediately. “What's going on, Dad?” His father was silent for a long minute, which instantly told all four teens it was something grave. Isshin generally wasn't one to shut up.

“It's your sisters--”

“ _What?!_ Are they hurt?”

“No, no, they-- well-- they're okay for now, but-- it's difficult to explain--”

“Did something attack them?!”

“No-- well, depending how you look at it--”

“What _happened?!_ ”

“It's complicated, plus I don't have all the information myself yet. They don't want to explain everything in full until you get here. That worries me-- what they told me is terrible enough.”

“Cut the vague crap, old man! What did they tell you?!”

A rustling came from the phone, Isshin apparently scrubbing his face tiredly. “Karin and Yuzu were tricked into selling their souls.”

“ _WHAT?!_ ” Ichigo roared. The phone creaked in his hand. His friends reared back, wide-eyed. “ _WHO?! WHO TRICKED THEM?!_ ”

“Ichigo--”

“I'LL FUCKING _KILL_ THE BASTARD!”

“Ichigo!” Isshin snapped.

“What?!”

“Calm down. I need you to focus. You won't accomplish anything if you can't stay calm long enough to figure out _who_ we're going to be destroying.” There was murder in his quiet growl.

Ichigo gestured frustration with the phone, put it on the table, and collapsed onto the couch with his head in his hands. “How did this happen?” he asked brokenly. “How could we-- how could we not--? They're supposed to be safe now.”

“I know, son,” Isshin sighed. “What's done is done. We need to move forward.”

Ichigo took a shaky breath as Chad lay a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Right. Right.” After a silent minute to gather himself, he looked up at the phone. “What now?”

“Now we get the girls to tell us their story,” Isshin answered grimly. “There is an odd thing. They brought home a girl their age I've never seen or heard of before who also got tricked. She said she approached the girls because she heard about you and your friends, your abilities and influence. She wants us on her side in case Kisuke gets carried away with his curiosity or the Thirteen Divisions react poorly.”

“My influence?” Ichigo asked, confused. “What influence?”

Uryū sighed deeply. “Kurosaki's ignorance aside--”

“ _What?_ ”

“--How would a random girl your daughters' age know about social politics in Seireitei?”

“That's what I want to know,” Isshin answered. “Have any of you heard of her? Her name is Homura Akemi.”

Ichigo's friends made thoughtful sounds. Ichigo stared flatly at the phone. “You know me and names, old man.”

“Girl with long dark hair and violet eyes. Very well-controlled reiatsu that feels like... actually, it's difficult to describe. Makes me think of night, though. And kind of... spinny? The way she speaks makes her sound older than she looks. Very serious.”

“Nope,” Ichigo answered immediately. He looked at his friends. “You guys?” They murmured negatives.

Isshin sighed. “I had hoped there was a simple explanation. We'll have to tease it out of her, I guess.”

“If there's someone besides Karin and Yuzu who got tricked, does that mean there are more out there?” Orihime asked worriedly.

“I don't know. There's a lot I don't know. Just... come home tomorrow so we can figure this out.”

Ichigo stood, determined. “We'll come right now.”

“There aren't any trains until tomorrow,” Chad murmured.

Ichigo's face fell, then he squinted suspiciously at the phone. “You called this late on purpose.”

“Yep,” his father replied. “I want the girls to sleep so they can't try to get out of questions by saying they're sleepy. They won't sleep if you and your reiatsu are here.”

“What?”

“Kurosaki, your reiatsu is so angry the neighbors are probably waking up feeling like something's going to jump out at them in the dark,” Uryū explained drily. “There's no way your sisters will sleep if they sense that.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “It wouldn't be a problem if you had even a modicum of control.”

Chad frowned disapprovingly at Uryū as Ichigo sputtered.

“So I'll see you tomorrow?” Isshin asked.

Ichigo growled. “Yeah, we'll take the first train in the morning.” After he ended the call, Ichigo just sat with his head in his hands.

Orihime carefully sat next to him and wrung her hands. “We'll all help, Ichigo. We'll help them.”

Ichigo looked up at his friends, whose faces were grim but earnest. “Yeah,” he said. He scrubbed his face and drew a deep breath. “Yeah.”

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Let me know what you think. I love your reviews.


	38. SIEBENUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for your continued support~  
> @People who want faster updates: Sorry, but my job comes first. I've had an unusual rush of clients the last few weeks, and several of them are complicated/emergency cases that I have to keep working on when I get home. I pulled a ten-hour day at the office this week. (x_x)
> 
> Regarding the number of timelines yet to come: I won't be depicting every single one. Hopefully, this chapter and the next will give you an idea of how I plan to gloss over some repetitive stuff to avoid boredom. But there are Plot Reasons for the high number. Not entirely Bad Reasons. Just... Reasons. *shifty eyes*
> 
> @Norm: Thank you. I'm very flattered. It lets me tell more of the story. It's more fun to crawl around in everyone's heads and look at Homura from an outsider's perspective, besides hahaha.
> 
> @Guests: I can't tell who's who. D: But some of you leave the most interesting reviews (and on-point insights lol) that I would love to PM you about like I do with a lot of signed reviews. Thank you for reviewing at all, though. I love it.

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**SIEBENUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Isshin was up long before the girls. He hadn't exactly slept much, mind whirling as he forcibly restrained his instinct to call Kisuke immediately. Part of him wondered if the scientist actually _had_ noticed something off and just not told him. Kisuke played his cards close to the vest so it was a distinct possibility. He didn't know how he felt about that, so he tried to ignore it. Instead, he raked through his memories of the past year for signs of strangeness in his girls. It frightened him that he couldn't think of anything beyond what he had assumed was maturation of their powers and increased speed of defeating Hollows.

Isshin was haggardly staring into a mug of cold coffee when his son barreled into the house as though expecting a battle. His friends were more subdued as they followed him.

Ichigo met his father's eyes and demanded, “Where are they?”

Isshn blinked slowly. “Up in their room.” When his son moved to charge up the stairs, he firmly ordered him to stop. “Sit down. We need to plan how to handle getting them to tell us as much as possible. If you let them see how angry you are, they'll think you're angry at _them_ and clam up.”

“I _am_ angry at them,” Ichigo snarled. “They should've known better!”

“Like you knew better than to agree to let the first shinigami you met stab you in the heart in hope of getting the power to save your family?” Isshin said lowly.

Ichigo flinched, taken off guard. “Th-that was different!”

Isshin rubbed his eyes. “It may not be, from what little they told me.” He gestured for everyone to sit.

Ichigo's face fell into confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Just... please sit down, son,” his father said tiredly.

§ x § x §

Homura bolted upright in her futon and looked around wildly.

The sun was dawning, the birds were chirping, Madoka was alive again, and somewhere nearby, Ichigo Kurosaki was _furious_.

Karin and Yuzu exchanged panicked glances, instantly awake. “We're so dead,” Karin said dully.

Yuzu wrung her blankets in her fists. “W-what do we do?”

Homura just looked at Karin with wide eyes. While the darkness and violence she had sensed in Ichigo during the final battle was absent and his reiatsu wasn't as heavy, the anger in the burning moonlight was more intimidating than a lot of Witches she had faced. Conscious rage almost always wielded a sharper blade than the mindless lashing-out of Witches.

Karin grimaced. “I guess we get dressed and go meet the firing squad,” she said reluctantly. “If we avoid him, he'll only get angrier.”

Ichigo's reiatsu began to shift into horror as they heard the distant murmur of their father's voice. Karin and Yuzu winced. “I wonder what Daddy is telling him,” Yuzu said nervously.

§ x § x §

Within Ichigo's Inner World, Zangetsu and the Hollow stood stark black and white against the grey of the stormy sky and its reflection on the solid part of the sideways building that represented Ichigo's memories of the time when the spirits had been sleeping. The Hollow sprawled down on the surface and carefully slid over to peek within the cracking glass of the sixteenth story, the only place in their shinigami's soul the spirits had been unable to access. The Hollow went still, then sat up and looked at Zangetsu, enraged.

“I'm gonna fuck someone up over this,” he snarled.

Zangetsu hummed agreement, their intertwined nature allowing him to see what was within as well. “Revenge later. Ichigo comes first,” he said coldly.

“Tch. You think I'm stupid or somethin'?” he growled resentfully as he stood and slung rain-soaked hair from his brow. He whipped his copy of Ichigo's blade off his back and released its bandages with a whirl of cloth. “The things I do for King,” he sneered halfheartedly as the cloth extended at his will and sped off to wrap around the compromised level of the building. When the building was bandaged, the Hollow heaved the blade over his shoulder. “Hmph. _Knew_ there couldn't be anythin' good in there.”

Both spirits looked up as the rain poured even harder. Zangetsu sighed.

“Fuckin' _rain_ ,” the Hollow grumbled. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted skyward, “Calm the fuck down, King! Sad's not gonna do nothin' but piss me off! Get angry again! Angry's _great!_ I can _work_ with angry!”

_Shut up_ , Ichigo's morose voice echoed around them.

“I'm tryin' to help, dumbass!”

_Just... just shut up._

“Fuck you!” the Hollow sneered as he made rude gestures at the sky.

Zangetsu closed his eyes and prayed for patience.

§ x § x §

Karin, Yuzu, and Homura trod down the stairs with leaden steps. They cautiously rounded the wall into the kitchen. Everyone looked up at them. Ichigo's friends were pale. Ichigo himself looked devastated. They all stared at each other for a long minute.

Ichigo's mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to speak, voice choked. “This... you did this because of _me?_ ”

Karin's face went troubled. “Ichi-nii, it's not—”

“It's not your fault, Onii-chan,” Yuzu finished in distress.

“I... I remember a little bit, now,” he said haltingly. “A fence... my jacket....” He swallowed hard and roughly continued, “Punching you in the face, Karin-- I'm so sorry--”

Karin scowled. “You weren't yourself, Ichi-nii.”

“The Witch told you to do that,” Yuzu added.

Ichigo made a sound of frustration. “I should've been able to fight off... _whatever_ it was--”

“You couldn't without your powers, Ichi-nii,” Karin said matter-of-factly. “And it's not your fault you lost your powers. You thought we were worth risking yourself when we were attacked. We thought you were worth risking ourselves when you were attacked. Yeah, we screwed up by not going straight to Urahara. But you pretty much did the same damn thing.”

“ _I'm_ the one who's supposed to protect _you_ ,” their brother protested.

“But is that a realistic thing to expect of yourself?” Homura asked hesitantly, drawing everyone's attention as she spoke for the first time. She looked a bit surprised at her own words.

Ichigo blinked and startled. “What?”

“Is it realistic to expect yourself to always be able to protect your sisters from everything?” she repeated slowly, as though considering the words herself. Ichigo's mouth turned down into a troubled frown. Homura tilted her head and stared at him with piercing eyes in an expressionless face. “If I understand correctly, it was necessary for you to sacrifice your powers. It's only logical that others should want to protect you when you gave so much to protect them.”

Ichigo's face looked uncertain. “But—”

Uryū pushed his glasses up his nose. “Kurosaki, you ran off and took on an entire military organization to protect Kuchiki because she gave you the means to protect your family. You have no room to complain. Let it go and deal with the now.”

Ichigo's mouth clicked shut. He blinked several times, then covered his face and heaved a deep sigh. “Right. Right.”

Yuzu shifted worriedly. “Are... are you still mad, Onii-chan?”

Ichigo looked up. “No,” he said, subdued. He sat straight and stared at them seriously. “Thank... thank you for saving me.”

Yuzu's lip trembled. She hurried to her brother and hugged him. He hugged her fiercely in return. Karin followed after a moment, more timid than usual.

Isshin watched his children cling to each other. It tugged at his heart. His eyes wandered over to Homura, who was watching them with a blank face. She noticed his gaze and solemnly stared back, eyes distant. When he frowned worriedly, she looked away.

§ x § x §

Homura regally avoided looking at anybody during their awkward breakfast of simple oatmeal and raisins. The Kurosaki girls tried to delay the inevitable by moving to clear the table, but Chad headed them off and stared at them until they sat down, then collected the dishes himself. The sisters sat on either side of Homura, their fidgeting contrasting sharply with the stranger's prim aloofness.

“All right,” Isshin began after a tense silence. “I didn't tell your brother much. And you didn't tell _me_ much. Start at the beginning.”

Uryū opened the voice recorder on his phone and slid it across the table. Yuzu took a deep breath. “It started on the field trip to the botanical gardens last year. Karin's friend was acting strange, so we followed him. He hit Karin when she tried to stop him. We noticed there was a funny symbol on his neck. When Karin touched it, he hit her again.”

“The thing felt like a Hollow version of this binding kidō Tōshirō once used on me,” Karin explained.

“Why the hell did he bind you?” Ichigo asked with a scowl.

Karin rolled her eyes. “Because he's a stick in the mud who didn't want to play soccer anymore because of a little lightning.” Her brother slowly palmed his face. Karin shrugged. “Anyway, I broke the binding and then we got sucked into this other dimension where everything was crazy. I mean green sky, flowers the size of trees, fairies with frog heads, walking telescopes, whatever. There was a voice in our heads that said it wouldn't let us leave, so we went looking for it. That's when we got attacked by the fire-breathing hummingbirds with snapdragon heads.”

Everyone stared. Uryū frowned skeptically. “Are you _sure_ you weren't hallucinating?”

Karin rolled her eyes again. “ _Yes_. God, just listen to the story.”

“We were starting to lose when an older girl showed up,” Yuzu continued. “She was wearing a cute dress and saved us from the... creatures.”

“Totally _demolished_ them,” Karin added.

“There was a little white animal with her. He... it... explained that Yuki was a magical girl and we could be magical girls too, if we wanted.”

Eyebrows went up around the table. Uryū's doubt intensified. “Magical girls?”

“ _Yes_. Magical girls. Let us finish,” Karin grumbled.

Yuzu glanced at her sister, then around the table. “It said that it could grant wishes, and that in exchange we had to use our powers to fight these... Hollow-like creatures called Witches it said shinigami couldn't sense.”

“Wishes and witches, now,” Uryū said drily. Ichigo glared at him.

“We said we wanted to think about it,” Karin said. “So we met with him-- it-- a couple weeks later to ask questions. It said that magical girls use weapons that are copies of zanpakutō, and that shinigami didn't like that and killed them. So it said to never let a shinigami know about magical girls. It made its point by saying it saw the Quincy genocide firsthand because it contracted some Quincy girls.”

“Quincy magical girls. _Right_ ,” Uryū said sarcastically.

Ichigo turned on him. “Are you calling my sisters _liars_ , Ishida?!”

Uryū pushed his glasses up his nose and narrowed his eyes at Ichigo. “The Quincy would have noticed.”

“You and your goddamn all-knowing _Quincies_ ,” Ichigo snarled.

“You're part-Quincy, too,” Uryū snapped.

“ _I_ don't claim to know _everything spiritual_ , you ass! And I wasn't raised Quincy!”

“Maybe you'd think more critically about your sisters claiming to be _anime magical girls_ if your mother had taught you--”

Rage flooded Ichigo's reiatsu. “Are you _really_ bringing my _mother_ into this, Ishida?!”

Everyone jumped at the sound of hands slamming onto the table as a chair screeched on the tile. They looked at its source: Homura, standing with indignant fury. “Stop being so _childish!_ You're wasting time!” she shouted. Her face twisted in distressed disappointment in the moment before she declared, “Magical girls are _real!_ ”

Violet light flashed over her body with a high flare of reiatsu. Uryū drew his glowing bow on her by reflex, perceiving her action as an attack. The girl, now wearing a purple and white costume, scowled at him and disappeared.

“Put that down,” she scolded from directly behind him.

Uryū reeled and loosed his arrow before he had finished turning, trusting his aiming instinct--

“ _Ishida!_ ” Ichigo shouted.

“Stop that,” Homura snapped condescendingly from the opposite side of the room again as Karin and Yuzu flashed with red and yellow reiatsu in front of her.

“Stop this!” Yuzu cried tearfully.

Karin, her clothes replaced by a red and white costume, scaled the table and tackled a stunned Uryū from the front as her brother slammed into him from the side. Yuzu, wearing a frilly yellow and white costume, threw her hands forward as she backed toward Homura and cast a shield of three interlocked yellow circles. Uryū struggled to draw another arrow while tangled in the limbs of the other two siblings.

“ _STAND DOWN!_ ” Isshin roared as he stood so forcefully his chair clattered away behind him. Everyone froze and looked at him with wide eyes. No one moved. Isshin glared authoritatively at them all, the captain he once was becoming apparent. “Everyone, back in your seats,” he ordered. They just stared. He narrowed his eyes and leaned on the table menacingly. “ _Now_.”

Everyone scrambled back to their seats like scolded puppies. They silently fidgeted under Isshin's heavy gaze, the three magical girls watching his reaction to their transformation warily. Homura, mouth set in a stubborn line, suspiciously slid her eyes Uryū's way every few seconds.

“Now,” Isshin said more calmly, though still standing above them. He waved at the costumed girls. “Are we all satisfied that, at the very least, magical girls are real?” His eyes bored into Uryū's. The older teens all nodded hurriedly. Isshin crossed his arms and scanned the faces at the table. He righted his chair then sat with a nod and gestured at the magical girls. “Please continue, girls. There won't be any more... problems.”

Karin and Yuzu hesitantly resumed their tale, relating the basics of the magical girl system and the honeyed words the Incubator had said to convince them to contract. It took some prodding to get them to describe the incident with the Witch that had snared their brother. The people hearing the full story for the first time sat through it in rigid, horrified silence. Chad lay a hand on Ichigo's shoulder to ground him when his breaths got shallow and he looked like he would be ill.

“That was awfully convenient,” Uryū said quietly when the girls stopped talking.

“The hell you talking about, Ishida?” Ichigo asked sickly.

Uryū glanced at him. “I mean your sisters were undecided and it _just so happened_ that their brother was the first Karakura attack they were aware of. It got very personal very quickly. _Conveniently_ quickly for this... Incubator.”

Orihime bit a nail. “You think Ichigo was targeted on purpose?”

“It wouldn't surprise me,” Homura answered, speaking for the first time since her outburst.

Karin frowned. “I don't think we told it anything about Ichi-nii.”

Homura hummed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “The specific target may be a coincidence if it really does avoid Karakura, but herding a very strong Witch to the area is something I can see it do. It is extremely manipulative, especially when it comes to convincing powerful girls to contract.”

Isshin rested his elbows on the table and knit his fingers together. “Tell me more about this contract.”

So Homura coolly laid out the overt terms, unsaid terms, and unexplained implications of every facet of the contract as her audience listened with growing dread. “Of course, the vast majority of contractees either never learn any of this or learn of it too late to be useful. These secrets are closely guarded for all the Incubator claims to have no concept of deceit.”

“How did you find out, then?” Orihime asked innocently.

Homura pursed her lips. “It's complicated.”

“How do you even figure into all of this in the first place?” Uryū asked. “How did you three meet?”

“That's also complicated.”

“You're not very helpful.”

Homura scowled at the Quincy. “I'm a veteran. I've learned from experience. I've met other magical girls. I've seen them die. Seen them turn. Karin and Yuzu must be very good or very lucky to have survived a year without doing either. They--”

“Please don't redirect attention away from you, Homura,” Isshin said mildly. Homura twitched and darted her gaze his way. He watched her closely. “They're very relevant questions.” She blinked and just kept staring at him with slight surprise. Isshin tilted his head, considering. Karin and Yuzu fidgeted.

“She's right,” Karin blurted. When everyone looked at her, she stubbornly continued, “It's complicated. She's convinced us of the problems and how she knows them. But she knows some other stuff that might make the shinigami flip out even more than the contract. We only know a bit of it, but....” She shrugged uncomfortably.

“We all thought you should know before the shinigami do,” Yuzu added quietly. “So that if they... um....”

“Go full Spanish Inquisition on us,” Karin supplied in an edgy tone.

“R-right,” Yuzu stammered. “So you can keep them from doing... that. We want to help. We'll answer questions about the stuff and help without any of... that.”

“What kind of stuff?” Isshin asked, brows knit in concern.

Homura stared at him coldly for a minute, glanced around the table, then focused on Isshin again since he had taken the lead. “Regarding the possible goals the Incubator has for collecting our souls this way in the first place.” A silent moment passed as she waited for them to react, but they all just watched her expectantly. “My information regarding the intersection of the magical girl system and the shinigami system is... fragmented,” she conceded. “I only recently learned of the shinigami myself. I need to relay vital information to Kisuke Urahara so he can investigate further. Just the vague outline I know is frightening enough.”

“And that is?” prompted Isshin.

“The Incubator claims to be harnessing the spiritual energy generated by our souls in defiance of the law of conservation of energy to delay the heat death of the universe by countering entropy on a cosmic scale.”

Everyone stared blankly.

“However, I now have my doubts about that. I have acquired information that it is actually preparing some kind of... tools or weapons. I'm unclear exactly what their purpose is.” Homura steeled herself. “I was told to mention the words... ah, Hogoku? ...and King's Key.”

Sharp inhalations sounded out around the table as everyone who had been involved in the Aizen debacle realized some other force might be trying to replicate his plan to usurp the Throne of Heaven.

“Hōgyoku?” Orihime whispered for confirmation. Homura nodded at her.

“Who said that? Who told you to say that?” Isshin asked in a hoarse whisper.

Homura looked down. “It's complicated.”

“Is there anything about this that isn't?” Uryū said in a weakly sarcastic undertone.

“No,” Homura answered bluntly, taking his words at face value. She tilted her head down and surveyed their faces from behind the curtain of her bangs. She didn't like to admit not knowing something, but better to ask them than someone as tricky with words as Urahara. “What is a Hōgyoku?”

Isshin massaged his brow. “As Kisuke explains it, it's an item made by collecting pieces of many souls and fusing them together. It looks like a round jewel. It has the power to realize the deepest desires in people's hearts and grant extraordinary power to those who master it.”

Homura frowned deeply and thought of the realization on Urahara's face when he murmured _Wishes_ when she had said the process looked like Soul Gem creation at the end of the timeline.

Disturbing.

That was something to dwell on later, though. “So, you see why we came to you first?”

“Yes,” Isshin sighed. “Second and Twelfth would be.... Getting us to understand first then take it to Kisuke was smart.” He looked at her sharply. “How did you know what order to do this in to get the best outcome? This implies you know a lot about our relationships.”

Homura frowned mulishly. “It's--”

“Complicated?” Isshin said drily.

Homura nodded once. “I will explain, but I think it would be most efficient to do so in the presence of Kisuke Urahara.”

“And his crew,” added Karin. “And we need to get Tōshirō and Yoruichi to come.”

Ichigo frowned. “Okay, Yoruichi I kinda get, but why Tōshirō?”

Karin looked shifty. “Because. Reasons.”

Yuzu tried to laugh and weakly said, “It's complicated.”

Isshin rubbed his eyes and sighed again. “Okay. I'll call Kisuke.” He looked up at Homura. “You realize you're asking for a decent chunk of trust while stonewalling us, don't you?”

“I am aware,” Homura replied with a dignified lift of her chin. “I very much appreciate it.”

“Right,” Isshin said wryly. “Well, I'll call Kisuke. You kids do whatever. Stay home from school, girls. I'll call you when he gives me word that he's managed to round everyone up.”

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Boop. Sorry about the delay. This whole “bringing the non-time travelers up to speed” scenario requires a lot of thought. x_x


	39. ACHTUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As always, thank you so much for your continued support. :)
> 
> I'm actually bothering to describe the “bringing the non-time travelers up to speed” scenes because it's the first time something like it is happening. In later timelines, I'm going to gloss over much of it with something like “The briefing of her allies went much as it usually did.” My goal is for the Bleach crew to not automatically/naively believe everything she says right off the bat. I feel like that would break suspension of disbelief.
> 
> Regarding Ishida's reaction in the last chapter: I was aiming for him being on high alert for shenanigans from an unknown power and interpreting Homura's angry outburst and flare of reiatsu as a potential attack. Then her appearing behind him seemed like a sneak attack to him. He has always struck me as the one of Ichigo's friends who is the most suspicious of others' motives.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ACHTUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Tōshirō Hitsugaya was in a foul mood. His lieutenant had procrastinated on multiple reports he needed for _his_ monthly expense report. Goading her through them had shot his nerves even before he had to rush through the compilation and submit it to First Division at the last possible moment. Now Rangiku Matsumoto was slumped on the office coffee table over a magazine, whining about the cold from the windows Tōshirō had deliberately opened to annoy her while he went through incident reports.

The woman's unhealthy habit of gleefully pushing people's buttons was going to bite her one day.

The curtains suddenly swished. A black cat appeared on Tōshirō's desk. He was nearly startled out of his chair. “Dammit, Shihoin!” he sputtered.

Rangiku swerved upright delightedly. “Kitty!” She waved when Yoruichi glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Yoruichi! Wanna go out for drinks?”

“Maybe some other time,” the cat drawled. “I'm here on business.”

“Oh?” Rangiku cooed.

Yoruichi turned back to the captain. “I need to speak with you in private, Captain Hitsugaya. I have sensitive information for you.”

Tōshirō raised a brow at her seriousness. He glanced at Rangiku. “You are dismissed, Lieutenant.”

Rangiku pouted dramatically, though her eyes were sharply concerned. “But--”

“Matsumoto. _Out_ ,” he snapped.

The two shinigami silently listened to Rangiku's footsteps fade away with distance, then looked at each other.

“You need to come to Urahara Shop as soon as possible,” Yoruichi began.

“Why?”

“The Kurosaki girls have gotten caught up in some kind of spiritual mess. They've told their family and Ichigo's friends part of it, but they're all stonewalling Kisuke on what the problem actually is until you and I get there.”

Tōshirō frowned, concerned for the girls. “Why me, though?”

The cat dipped her head and looked up at him with heavy eyelids. “According to Kisuke, they think you are the Thirteen Divisions officer who will react the most sensibly.”

Meaning the girls had entangled themselves in something that could piss off a lot of the older command structure into overreacting and they wanted their friend to be their inside advocate. Joy.

Tōshirō pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Give me about an hour to wrap up my work so no one comes looking for me.”

“See you in an hour, Captain,” Yoruichi drawled. She was gone with a whisper of the curtains.

Tōshirō stared at his paperwork and sighed.

§ x § x §

Homura focused on her teacup as everyone endured the tense silence while they waited for Captain Hitsugaya to arrive. Her heart was fluttering, adrenaline singing through her veins as she considered the many ways the meeting could go wrong and tried to ignore Kisuke Urahara's curious looks. The Kurosaki family had arrayed themselves around her defensively, one sister on either side of her and their brother and father serving as human bookends beyond them.

Everyone looked up as they sensed the atmosphere shift outside. All but Homura recognized the feel of a senkaimon opening. To Homura, it felt like a much neater, brighter version of the gateways the girls had called Garganta. Then the power dimmed and left only Captain Hitsugaya's chill reiatsu.

“Oh, great, he's already annoyed,” Karin said morbidly. “This will go well.”

The young man was already frowning when he entered the room and swept his eyes around the table. He raised a brow at Isshin's presence-- Homura remembered that he was in on the Kurosaki sibling plan to pretend the girls didn't know their father's heritage. The captain glanced back to Karin and stared flatly. “What did you get yourself into this time?”

Karin looked down and to the side, face red, and didn't reply. Lack of loud objection to his tone seemed to worry him.

Kisuke waved at the table, which was quite surrounded as Homura had insisted everyone from the shop should be present. She had stubbornly refused to explain why when asked. “Please take a seat, Captain Hitsugaya, and we will begin.”

Homura allowed Isshin to describe the basics so she could focus on watching the reactions of the listeners. She noticed that Kisuke took notes studiously while Yoruichi's gold cat eyes rarely looked away from her. Homura stared right back at her.

“All right,” Kisuke said when Isshin was done. “I know you girls described the specifics in detail earlier, but I'd appreciate hearing it from you instead of secondhand.”

Karin drew breath to speak but Homura cut her off. “Ishida took a voice recording. It will probably be easiest to listen to that and ask questions afterward. To make sure we don't leave anything out by accident.”

Kiskue peered at the girl as though considering a puzzle. He finally tilted his chin in assent. Uryū set up the phone. Kisuke took notes as everyone looked more and more disturbed. Yoruichi still watched Homura while the girl kept assessing reactions.

When the recording was over, Homura calmly asked if anyone had questions. Kisuke, face gone from curious to grim at the mention of the artifact he had spent decades trying to destroy, answered, “Not at the moment. I want to hear the rest of this... complicated story.”

Homura tented her fingertips over the table thoughtfully. “I think my explanation will be taken more seriously if I first transform and demonstrate my main magical ability.”

Kisuke perked up in interest. “I want to see you transform anyway. Please feel free to do so.”

Homura nodded and moved with deliberate slowness, not wanting to be perceived as a threat again. She held out her left hand and made her Soul Gem manifest above her ring with a thought. After a pause for everyone to get a good look at it, she triggered her transformation with a burst of purple light.

“Holy shit, you weren't kidding,” Jinta blurted.

Homura glanced at him sideways. “Of course not,” she sniffed. She looked to the rest of her audience. “To best demonstrate my ability, I need us to be a human chain. You can only see it if you are touching me or something else that is touching me.”

Several people looked suspicious, but Yuzu immediately clasped Homura's outstretched right hand, grabbed Isshin's hand on her other side, and glared around the table until everyone was complying-- even Yoruichi, who perched on Tessai's broad shoulders. Homura raised her shield and triggered its magic with a thought. Three circles on its surface irised open to show glass-covered cavities, two small ones holding different volumes of bright violet sand, the large central circle containing clockwork. After a click and a whir of gears, the colors of the world around them faded away and the birdsong from outdoors fell silent.

After a pause, Jinta sarcastically asked, “So, what, you suck the color out of everything? That's _reeeal_ useful.”

Homura glared at him and turned to Karin, the only person with a free hand. “Pick up your teacup. Hold it up high.” Karin dubiously complied. “Now drop it.”

Eyebrows raised around the table. “It'll spill,” Karin objected.

“Don't worry about that,” Homura said with a dismissive wave of her shield hand. “Just drop it.”

“If you say so,” Karin said.

Karin dropped the cup. It fell about three inches before its color faded and it stopped in midair. Everyone stared.

“What,” Captain Hitsugaya said flatly.

“Put your hand under it and raise it until you're holding it again,” Homura instructed.

Karin glanced at Homura and did so. The cup settled in her palm and regained its color. “What.”

“Lift it again,” Homura ordered. When Karin had done so, she continued, “Now pour it out quickly.”

Karin squinted at her suspiciously but did so. The small amount of tea left in the cup streamed from its rim. When free of the cup, the liquid froze in place. Most of the audience looked dumbfounded. Kisuke and Tessai looked fascinated.

“How would you classify this ability?” Kisuke asked.

“I can stop time,” Homura replied. She reached up and took the teacup from Karin's numb fingers and positioned it beneath the stream of tea.

“How interesting,” Kisuke said with delight.

“I suppose,” Homura said distantly as she lifted the cup until it made contact with the blob of tea, which immediately reanimated and fell into the cup with a slosh.

“That's how you got behind me earlier, isn't it?” Uryū asked with astonishment. “I didn't sense you move, but you did....”

Homura hummed and nodded. Kisuke looked intrigued and asked, “Now, what does this have to do with your explanation?”

Homura straightened and pushed her hair behind one ear as she waved at everyone to drop their hands. “I have a related ability that I can't demonstrate.”

“If she says time travel, I swear to God...,” Jinta grumbled.

Homura directed a deadpan stare at Jinta.

“No fucking way.”

Tessai narrowed his eyes at him. “Language.” Jinta huffed and looked away.

“Miss Akemi?” Kisuke prompted.

“Many of the questions I am certain you have about me and what I know can be explained by way of my time travel,” Homura explained. “This is the second time I have met all of you. I insisted upon the presence of everyone here because you were the people directly involved in the events that transpired who also knew I could time travel.” She ignored various sputtered questions. “Your future selves gave me evidence and letters to inform you of what happened and corroborate my story.” Homura looked up at Kisuke. “You gave me a compilation of the research you were able to perform in the week I knew you.”

Orihime clapped her hands excitedly. “What is the future like? Are there flying cars?”

Homura frowned at her in disapproval, but noticed the older girl's face still looked tense. Trying to lighten the mood? “I only came from six weeks from now.”

“Oh,” Orihime said disappointedly.

“What _is_ the future like, though, Miss Akemi?” Kisuke asked genially though his eyes were hard. “Surely there was a reason for you to return to this point in your past.”

Jinta looked from face to face in disbelief. “Wait, we're believing her? Just like that?”

“Of course not,” Kisuke said cheerfully. “But I am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt-- for now.”

Everyone watched Homura expectantly but she just frowned down at her tea.

“You said something about a Hōgyoku and a King's Key,” Isshin prompted. “Is the Incubator trying to make one?”

Homura lifted her face and pursed her lips. “I saw them.”

“This Incubator?” asked Tōshirō.

“That, too,” Homura answered. “But I'm talking about the Hōgyoku and King's Key.”

Silence.

“What do you mean, you saw them?” Kisuke asked quietly.

“I saw the Incubator combine hundreds of Soul Gems to make something the other you said was a Hōgyoku. Then it used that to steal the souls of everyone around Karakura to make something that shone gold. The other you called it a King's Key.” She examined the pale faces around the table. “By the time I left, I think the only survivors were myself, the other Mr. Urahara, the Incubator, and the shinigami with the--” she bit back _terrifying_ because she didn't want to show fear-- “formidable fire magic. Everyone else was killed or absorbed.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “The other Mr. Urahara may have died right before I came back. I was catching fire so it's a bit of a blur.”

“You were catching fire,” Isshin echoed numbly.

“Everything was,” Homura said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Why aren't you burned, then?” Jinta asked skeptically.

“My time travel is... mental, I suppose,” Homura explained. “I always wake up in bed on March sixteenth.”

“So, like loading a game from a save point after you screw up?” Karin asked.

“I suppose,” Homura answered. It was an accurate analogy, but not one she particularly liked.

“What you mean by 'always'?” Chad asked quietly.

The magical girl frowned sourly. “This may be the second timeline in which I have met all of you, but it is not the second timeline overall. I've repeated the same six weeks dozens of times trying to get everything right.” Homura sat straighter and regally glanced around the table. “Your other selves assured me of your cooperation. I would like to proceed as quickly as possible.”

Everyone sat in silence for a couple long minutes as Homura sipped her tea in a forced bluff of calm. “Right,” Kisuke said slowly. “I think our next step should be to consider this evidence you brought back with you.” He tilted his head. “I am curious how you brought anything back with you if your time travel is mental, though.”

Homura hummed. “My other ability is to store items in my shield.” She raised her arm to show the shield. “The items within come back with my magic-- except for Grief Seeds. They disappear. I did acquire one the other night, though.” She reached into the shield and pulled out a Grief Seed, then leaned forward to set it on the table. Kisuke reached over and gingerly picked it up to look at it curiously. Homura was quiet for a minute while everyone watched Kisuke, then asked, “Would you like me to distribute the evidence?”

Kisuke looked at her seriously. “Please do.”

So Homura started retrieving items from her shield-- envelopes, notebooks, small boxes, even a couple scrolls that went to Yoruichi and Tessai. When she was done, she sat back and watched everyone scrutinizing their time capsules from the future.

“Where are ours?” Karin asked.

Homura went still. Yuzu frowned. “Homura? Why didn't you get ours out?”

Homura dipped her chin and looked at her tea. “You didn't give me any.”

Yuzu tilted her head in confusion. “Why not?”

Homura bit her lip. Kisuke raised a brow. “Miss Akemi?”

Mouth turned down into a hard frown, Homura looked at Kisuke instead of the girls. She did not want to see their faces. “By the time the other you learned enough to come up with this plan, Karin and Yuzu were already dead.”

Sharp gasps came from the Kurosaki family. Karin rasped, “We... we died?”

Homura nodded silently.

“H-how?” Yuzu squeaked, grasping for her father's hand again.

Homura was quiet for a moment. Still looking at Kisuke instead of the girls, she said, “Yuzu's Soul Gem was destroyed in the fight against the Witch stalking the train tracks. Karin tried to get you to save Yuzu. When you couldn't, she despaired and turned into a Witch.” Homura glanced at Karin as the girl made a strangled sound. “Everyone here-- except Ichigo's friends, that is-- was caught in her labyrinth. We retrieved her Grief Seed. We discovered Inoue can revert the Grief Seed into a Soul Gem and revived Karin.”

“I thought you said I died,” Karin whispered, clutching her brother's hand where it rested on her shoulder.

“You did,” Homura answered. “You remembered turning into a Witch and fighting us. Trying to kill us. And... other things.” She really did not want to discuss Yuzu's corpse. “When you-- she?-- found out I would be going back in time and this you wouldn't remember it, you-- the other you-- committed suicide by shattering her own Soul Gem to escape the memories,” she finished heavily.

The Kurosaki family looked stricken. Ichigo gripped Karin's shoulder tightly, knuckles white. Isshin let go of Yuzu's hand and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a protective gesture. Everyone else sat in stunned silence.

“That won't happen,” Ichigo said roughly. “It _won't_. We won't let it.”

Homura met his eyes, weighed his expression, and quietly said, “Good.”

Kisuke grimly gathered his pile of evidence. “Study what Miss Akemi gave you. Miss Akemi, please brief Karin and Yuzu on what you expect us to learn of the events that transpired. We will reconvene this evening for further discussion.”

Everyone reached for their time capsules with varying levels of dread.

§ x § x §

Kisuke carefully set his boxes on the work table in his main lab and methodically removed the multiple complex kidō seals he supposed his future self had placed on them to prevent tampering. He thought over the meeting as he worked. On one level, the communication of information by recording had been efficient. On the other hand, he would have preferred to have the girls repeat their testimony in person so he could have compared the two recordings for discrepancies and signs of deception. The swift abruptness of Homura Akemi's insistence on referring to the recording could mean many different things. She was well-controlled, spoke as though she was older than she looked, and whatever her motives were, she had successfully redirected the course of the meeting in a way that allowed her to observe everyone else instead of being scrutinized herself. She hadn't been perfect about it, of course-- especially in the face of two former officers of the Second Division's covert operations-- but it was impressive for someone so young.

_If_ she was as young as she looked. He wasn't ruling out anything yet, especially given the claim that magical girls could continue in perpetuity given enough Grief Seeds to purify themselves with. And the time travel, if that really was true. He was leaning toward it being true given some of the kidō on the pile of time capsules Homura had given him. Several of his own personal designs were used. No one save Tessai and perhaps Yoruichi should have known about any of them.

Finished with the initial unpacking, Kisuke took the Grief Seed out of his pocket and sat at his desk. He studied it for a few minutes, then reluctantly put it in an isolation jar to investigate later. He then rolled over to his work bench and exchanged the jar for the opened time capsules. His own untidy scrawl had numbered each small package in the order in which they should be opened. Item one was a notebook. Within it he found a long letter to himself written in several of the ciphers he and Yoruichi had invented for private correspondence when they were the Soul Society equivalent of teens, all in his own handwriting and describing multiple incidents from his life that only he should know. Thus convinced of the time travel portion of the magical girl's story, Kisuke moved on to the second package: A thumb drive containing multiple research abstracts in varying degrees of completion.

Kisuke rolled back to his desk, loaded the files, and cracked his neck, settling in to read as much of the summarized findings as possible.

§ x § x §

No one was particularly hungry when they reassembled that evening, but everyone ate the meal Yuzu had spontaneously cooked to keep calm through Homura's more detailed story anyway. Everyone was tense; some, tearful. Isshin kept staring at Homura with a searchingly haunted expression. It made her squirm uncomfortably. The silence stretched through the entire meal; the gathering and washing of dishes was unsettlingly loud in the hush. They finally settled and exchanged looks, always glancing back to Homura. She remained impassive.

Kisuke cleared his throat. “So. Is everyone convinced of Miss Akemi's time travel claims?” Everyone nodded or murmured assent. Kisuke focused on Homura. “The data you gave me is both fascinating and disturbing. The concept of this Walpurgisnacht construct is worrying. I gathered that you collected the time capsules before its descent-- or whatever ended up with the Incubator in possession of a King's Key. Please relate what you know of the events after the time capsules were created.”

Homura took a deep breath and obliged. Describing what had happened took much longer than she expected, her audience asking pointed and detailed questions that raked over the details from every angle while Kisuke scribbled everything on his notepad. It was quite late when Kisuke was satisfied.

“I think that's it for now,” the scientist said soberly as he flipped through the pages. He looked up at them all with flinty eyes. “Try to relax for a day or two while I go over my data in depth. I'll send you all digital copies to look at if you like.”

“Relax. Right,” Karin said edgily.

Kisuke heaved a tired sigh and opened his mouth to speak, but Homura cut him off. “I don't have time to relax. We need to hunt the Witch along the train corridor and I need to get back to Madoka.”

Kisuke blinked passively at the stubborn set of her jaw and considered his words carefully. “Miss Akemi, having you nearby and available to assist my investigation is crucial. This will help your Madoka in the long run.”

Homura scowled. “You can call me on my phone.”

“Perhaps later, once I am more confident about the nuts and bolts of this system,” Kisuke conceded with a frown. “I want you able to be physically present to test things and talk through hypotheses. Possibly demonstrate your abilities more thoroughly.”

Eyes narrowed, Homura answered, “You have Karin and Yuzu to figure out how magical girls function.”

“Ah, but you have more detailed knowledge than they do,” Kisuke said as he leaned back and made a bit of a show of rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck while shuffling papers. “Your repeated experience makes you a valuable asset. A rich source of information who can possibly answer hypotheticals by virtue of proposed scenarios having actually occurred in one of your loops. And I think such knowledge would be best communicated in person.” He folded his hands on the table and calmly looked in her eyes. “If you go back right away, you may fall into repeating a pattern that hasn't worked for you in the past. They say one definition of insanity is repeating the same process over and over and expecting different results. Let me look into this and see if there's a way to break your friend out of this cycle-- or at least a method that you haven't tried. Hopefully, we will build a plan to eliminate this Incubator and save all girls in addition to your friend.” The scientist cocked his head. “You said the previous timeline was the first in which Madoka died before the final battle, correct? And that she was partnered with the veteran, ah... Mami Tomoe, for a bit before you became involved, yes? That should give you a few days' leeway in which you can be fairly certain she will be safe.”

Homura scowled. “She will probably contract in that time. I need to dissuade her.”

“Do you?” asked Yoruichi. She flicked an ear and languidly swished her tail. “We know our little Orihime can purify Soul Gems--”

“Uh-um,” Orihime said nervously while waving a half-raised hand a bit as though interrupting a teacher. “I-- I have an idea. Um.” She thoughtfully pressed one finger into her chin. “If... If I can reject the transformation from Grief Seed back into Soul Gem, do you think I could reject the creation of a Soul Gem back into... a normal soul, I guess?”

Everyone stared at her, dumbstruck.

“That is certainly an _excellent_ line of inquiry for us to investigate,” Kisuke finally said with intrigue.

Yoruichi gave her head a little shake and got back on point. “Anyway, if you know Madoka will be fine aside from contracting, it should be safe to leave her to fend for herself for a few days. You said she can one-shot that doomsday combo Witch-- I don't think she'll be a pushover. Especially if she's teamed up with that veteran girl.” The cat tilted her head back and looked at Homura askance. “Don't you think?”

Homura pursed her lips unhappily. After a minute of thought, she sourly conceded the point with an inclination of her chin.

“We're forgetting something,” Uryū said. Everyone looked at him. “How much are we telling the Thirteen Divisions?”

“I think I should verbally report this to the Captain-Commander,” Tōshirō said slowly. “Especially in light of the King's Key intel-- unless he's holding something back, it seemed unclear whether the method Aizen found would work. He should know that it does. Plus, he can order resources for our use without having to explain anything to subordinates.”

Several people made thoughtful noises. Homura looked at him sideways. “Are you certain he won't order some sort of preemptive strike against magical girls? Us in particular?”

Ichigo scowled. “I'd like to see him _try_.”

The shinigami and Quincy exchanged significant looks, but kept quiet about Ichigo's influence on operational decisions among the Thirteen Divisions. Homura frowned, but made no further objections.

Tōshirō turned to Kisuke. “What sort of plan should I tell him we have?”

Kisuke drummed his fingers on the table. “A day for me to read through more of the research and poke around in general. We'll seek this Witch by the train tracks tomorrow evening. I'll analyze any data we collect. Beyond that, who knows?”

Tōshirō nodded acceptance. Everyone pulled back from the table. Ichigo's friends and Homura drifted away with the rattled Kurosaki family. Tōshirō returned to Soul Society after a melancholy glance at his best friend's retreating back. The residents of Urahara Shop silently watched them go.

Tessai stood and glanced at Kisuke. “I'll get some coffee brewing.”

Kisuke murmured his thanks. He was going to have a long night.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: That feeling when you have to create and refer to multiple calendars to keep track of what your characters are doing when. :T
> 
> I'll see you all next time. :)


	40. NEUNUNDDREIßIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Blah blah delay blah blah adulting blah blah enjoy!

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**NEUNUNDDREIßIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Tōshirō reentered Soul Society, vaguely nodded at the Kidō Corps guards at the main senkaimon, and jumped into shunpo. It was nearing eleven at night, but he knew the Captain-Commander and his lieutenant would probably still be in their office. Sure enough, the windows of the main office of First Division were lit up. He alighted in the courtyard and approached at a measured pace, clutching his time capsule notebook as his mind whirled with ways to spin the situation in a way that wouldn't bring Second or Twelfth Divisions down on the magical girls.

Lieutenant Chōjirō Sasakibe met him in the hall outside his superior's office, having sensed his approach. The older man's aristocratic features looked troubled. He bowed slightly as Tōshirō nodded a greeting to him. Brows knit, the lieutenant said, “Good evening, Captain Hitsugaya. It is quite unusual for you to visit this late.” _Why are you here?_ was implied.

Tōshirō frowned. “I have extremely sensitive and very troubling information to report to Captain-Commander Yamamoto. I request a private audience with him at his earliest convenience.”

Sasakibe matched his frown. “I will return shortly.” Then he ducked into the office door and disappeared. A couple minutes ticked by while Tōshirō stared at a wall and thought. Then the lieutenant returned and ushered him in.

Tōshirō silently stood in front of his commander's desk while the old man finished writing on whatever document he had before him and Sasakibe withdrew. For once, Tōshirō was glad for the delay while Yamamoto completed his task. It let him think.

Yamamoto finally put down his brush, carefully set his papers aside, folded his hands on his desk, and looked at his youngest captain. “You have information for me, Captain Hitsugaya?”

Tōshirō snapped to attention. “Sir. I request a barrier on this room before I speak.”

The old man raised his bushy eyebrows and opened his droopy eyes further. He, too, snapped alert, aware that this captain would not ask such lightly. A few silent hand gestures later, a kidō barrier encased the room to prevent eavesdropping. “Report.”

“There is a situation in the World of the Living,” Tōshirō began. “Though it currently has ties to Karakura and the Kurosaki family directly, it seems to be part of a wider network of predation on the souls of young girls.”

Yamamoto knit his brows. “Explain.”

So he did. In a clipped tone, Tōshirō laid out the basic structure of the magical girl system and the Kurosaki girls' involvement in it. Then he carefully mentioned Homura Akemi's role in approaching them and describing the parts of the system the Kurosaki girls hadn't known about-- and the threat of the Incubator creating a King's Key.

The commander narrowed his eyes. “And how does this girl know all this? The existence of the King's Key is a guarded secret. This Incubator obviously takes pains to hide all the information the girl claims to have. How is she privy to such intelligence?”

Tōshirō took a deep breath. “Well, Captain-Commander....” He pursed his lips, choosing words carefully. “Akemi is... an anomaly among magical girls, I suppose. One whose abilities can be extremely useful, but potentially exploited to disastrous results if the wrong sort find out about her. She is aware of this and takes pains to obscure her most powerful ability from the Incubator. I also think Central 46 and Second Division would be... unhappy about her. And Twelfth would be _overly happy_ about her. But her willing participation is crucial to any counter-strategy we formulate. In my opinion, that is.”

Yamamoto stared hard. “She is the reason you requested the barrier.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Continue.”

“Sir.” _Please be reasonable._ “Akemi's wish gave her time-manipulation powers.”

Yamamoto scowled fiercely. “Time-manipulation is _forbidden_ \--”

“Among shinigami,” Tōshirō finished.

The old man looked furious at his interruption. “ _Captain Hitsugaya--!_ ”

“Sir!” Tōshirō barked. “Please look at this objectively! Akemi is not under the authority of Soul Society. Her abilities have enabled her to gather valuable intelligence and turn back time when the Incubator succeeded at killing most of the Thirteen Divisions command structure and creating a King's Key over Karakura--”

“ _What?!_ ” Yamamoto roared.

“Her description of the end of the last timeline--”

“ _She can time travel?!_ ”

“Yes, sir.” Tōshirō did not like the tic in the old man's eye. “Her description included what sounded like it could have been your bankai. It would make sense-- all souls in Karakura consumed, Thirteen Divisions command decimated, an enemy breaking into the King's Realm, everything on fire--”

“How can you possibly believe any of this, Captain Hitsugaya?” the Captain-Commander practically spat.

Tōshirō pursed his lips-- there was derision at the very idea of any of his story, yes, but that was poorly masking a military leader's dismayed anger at the prospect of sustaining such a crushing loss to an enemy he hadn't even known existed. Skeptical, but taking him seriously. He could work with that. “Sir. She demonstrated her ability to selectively halt the effects of time. As for proof of time travel....” He looked down at his notebook and ran a thumb down its spiral-bound spine “Apparently my future self was one of the few people to know of Akemi's most powerful technique. This other me wrote... a letter of sorts. To me. His past self. Whatever.” He looked up at Yamamoto, eyes serious. “It's in my own handwriting. There is no way anyone but me could possibly know some of this.”

Yamamoto narrowed his eyes. “You never know what spies have overheard, Captain.”

“Unless spies have learned how to observe interactions between a shinigami and their zanpakutō within their Inner World, I am quite certain that is not a viable option to explain this,” Tōshirō rebutted with a stubborn scowl as he waved the notebook for emphasis.

Yamamoto was silent for a long minute, reiatsu smoldering as the solar dragon within was prodded awake. Then he breathed in deeply and forcibly exhaled from his nose with his eyes closed. He folded his hands on the desk again. “Describe the end of this... timeline.”

Tōshirō recounted the last week of the previous timeline as detailed in his notebook and Akemi's testimony. The banked fire of Yamamoto's reiatsu rose up as Tōshirō spoke, his power like coals shifting and flaring as he listened to the tale of the fall of Karakura-- and, essentially, the Thirteen Divisions-- to Walpurgisnacht and the Incubator. Tōshirō stood firm before his commander's fury, Hyorinmaru's icy wings enveloping their shared soul to shield him from the old man's seething dragon-flame reiatsu. The old man was silent for a long time, eyes closed as he thought. Tōshirō knew better than to disturb him.

“We were routed,” Yamamoto heavily said at long last.

“Yes, sir,” Tōshirō answered, voice subdued.

Yamamoto sat back and massaged his temples with one hand as he heaved a sigh. “And this... time-manipulator,” he said. “You are being cautious in how you speak of her. How do you see her involvement from here on?”

“Akemi is our failsafe should we be unable to stop this enemy from achieving its goals,” Tōshirō answered without hesitation. “Her alliance with us could be critical in averting disaster. We cannot afford to alienate or neutralize her.”

Yamamoto sat back and squinted, eyeing his subordinate keenly. “She is an independent power.” _She can take steps we legally cannot._

“Yes, sir. Quite like Kisuke Urahara's group, or Ichigo Kurosaki's group.” _We have a collection of powerful wildcards already-- what's one more?_ “She shows a significant degree of trust in the Kurosaki family and is... _mostly_ cooperative with Urahara.” _She's not as much of a loose cannon if former captains of the Thirteen Divisions are observing her._ “I think it would be wise to allow those ties to bind.” _If she develops trust in our allies, we could benefit from it._

Yamamoto looked sharply at his youngest captain and considered his words for several minutes before shifting topics without voicing an opinion. “Am I to presume Kisuke Urahara is investigating how the events on the final day can be explained and what can be done to prevent a repetition?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Would I also be correct to presume that he requests I grant him resources above questioning by the other Divisions?”

“Yes, sir. And that I be your direct liaison. We think it would be best to keep all of this off-the-record until we know more, plus Akemi seems to have a marginal degree of trust in me. Urahara would like to initially limit her exposure to other shinigami in hope of her coming to trust me more.”

The old man grunted and stared at his desk as though the solution to the situation was engraved in the grain of the wood. At length, he said, “To appease the time-manipulator into remaining cooperative if another timeline is required, I suppose?”

“Yes, sir. If Twelfth, Second, or Central 46 get to her and... to be quite frank, tear her apart looking for answers, we lose our advantage in having her as a willing ally and probably break ties with the Karakura contingent in so doing. Akemi would then have the option of turning back time and convincing the Karakura contingent to not trust or involve the Divisions in any way, leaving us with no involvement and no information about the threat.”

“Hmm.” Yamamoto scratched his beard and looked up at him, eyes keen. “The other Urahara advised her to get him and the Kurosaki family on her side before doing anything else, didn't he?”

“Yes, sir.” Tōshirō twitched, uncertain of the old man's opinion of that maneuver. He generally did not like when subordinates or allies dodged around him. “Though apparently the other him told Akemi to scrap the plan and run straight to him as soon as she went back.”

“Oh?” the Commander lifted a brow. “Yet she did not. By your own testimony, she delayed.” He narrowed his eyes at the Tenth Division Captain. “She deviated from the new plan to safeguard her own survival by gathering other allies first, then revealed her information in increments designed to minimize disbelief and poor reactions.” He tilted his chin. “And remained on guard while doing so, to the extent that she easily outmaneuvered the Quincy boy.”

Tōshirō regretted the admission at once. It made the girl look sneaky. Or worse, defiant. “...Yes, sir.”

Yamamoto stared at him and tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. He finally settled on a reaction, nodding once and saying, “Good.”

Blinking in surprise, having fully expected to have to defend the girl's actions, Tōshirō stammered, “S-sir?”

“Good,” Yamamoto repeated, arching one brow. “She can think strategically, shows caution in who she trusts, and has well-established self-preservation instincts-- unlike some.” _Some_ being a particular orange-haired young man. “This girl may have certain emotional challenges given her youth, but she is at least mature enough to be nuanced in her behavior and anticipate consequences. That is heartening, considering we may be at her mercy if we don't resolve this before she turns back time to a point where no one allied with us knows of her or the threat she has so much information on. It makes her less likely to be swayed by an enemy before we can notice.” He leaned back. “If we are to secure her cooperation in any further timelines which may emerge, we need to give her reason to think our aid is worth seeking over any risk she perceives in so doing. She needs to see that the consequences of not having our help are more dangerous than approaching us. Preferably, she should develop an outright positive attitude toward cooperating with us. In short, Captain: Make her like us.”

Tōshirō couldn't help but stare. The old man, once so set in his ways of absolute adherence to the law, was willing to bend the rules. In a cold and tactical way, yes, but still far more than he once would have gone. Kurosaki really _had_ made a difference when he plowed through the Thirteen Divisions.

“Make no mistake, though, Captain Hitsugaya,” Yamamoto said gruffly. “I view Akemi as a potential asset. Should she become a liability or a threat....” He let the sentence hang for a moment, allowing the silence to imply all manner of things. “Urahara and Shihoin may be nigh uncontrollable, but they should be able to do a proper threat assessment of the girl and overpower her if necessary. If they do not, you are to take action to protect Soul Society and the King's Realm.”

Tōshirō bowed his head. “I understand, sir.”

The old man nodded sharply in return. “Good. Consider yourself assigned to this case. Do not inform your lieutenant of the particulars as yet. If you require additional resources, request them of me directly. Do not speak of this on any phone line which may be monitored by Twelfth Division. Report directly to me and only to me.” Yamamoto dispelled the barrier with a careless wave of one hand. “You are dismissed.”

Tōshirō hurried away as quickly as was polite, already considering his options.

§ x § x §

Isshin found himself fervently grateful that Chad and Orihime were among the Kurosaki house guests. In their own ways, each had herded his shell-shocked children into a video game tournament. They hit their stride and finally became distracted enough to enjoy themselves at midnight. They were still going strong at three. He didn't have the heart to tell them to quit and go to bed-- what did getting to bed at a reasonable hour matter when faced with the possibility of complete soul death? When trying not to dwell on their once-endings, on how much of their futures rode on Kisuke Urahara's intelligence and the determination of a fourteen-year-old girl? Not much, in his opinion. Let them exhaust themselves with something pleasant. At this point, he'd support anything that would chase away his girls' nightmares.

His girls.

Isshin sat at the kitchen table all night, thinking. He ran his fingers over the notebook that had been in his time capsule. Occasionally re-read particular passages and scrubbed his face with his hands. Pasted a brittle smile on his face when anyone came in for drinks or ice cream. But he spent most of his time turning two small silver objects over in his hands. One was an heirloom of sorts he usually kept safe in his nightstand: the first true Quincy cross charm bracelet his late wife had received when she was ten years old. A relic of the old Kurosaki line-- the same Quincy cross a teenage Masaki had used to save his life so many years ago. Holding it was a comfort to him in his wife's absence. He had become familiar with every millimeter of the charm and its chain since her death. Every scratch, every dent, every scuff. The other item had been enclosed in his time capsule: an exact replica of Masaki's one-of-a-kind talisman.

Sighing deeply, Isshin said, “Ah, Masaki.” He looked up at the poster of her joyous face. “I wish you were here to help us through this.” Isshin stared at the poster with an unfocused gaze, rolling the twin Quincy crosses in his hands like rosaries as he tried to think.

The noise in the house gradually tapered down into quiet as the teenagers fell asleep one by one. Still, he kept his vigil. Having heard the story and read his other self's version, he had no illusions that he would find anything but nightmares of shattering rubies and being unable to revive his daughters. Of his Yuzu, doll-sized perhaps, dressed up like a dead princess inside Karin's bare rib cage.

On that note, it had been quite thoughtful of Homura to omit that detail from what she told his girls. He half wished his other self hadn't written of it. But then, it helped stoke a limitless rage deep within him. That was probably his other self's intent. Anyway, he liked the girl's withholding. It spoke of concern and empathy to him. His other self was right-- Homura was very restrained in how she displayed emotion, but it was there if you bothered to look for it.

Isshin was surprised when Homura padded into the kitchen just before five with an empty glass. She looked equally surprised to see him. Homura blinked a few times and looked at the open notebook on the table.

“Ah, I'm sorry to interrupt you,” she murmured. “I thought you were asleep.”

Isshin grinned wryly. “No problem. I probably _should_ be sleeping. Then again, so should you.”

The girl slightly twisted her lips to one side. “Probably.” She just stood in the doorway and stared. “Excuse me,” she said as she began to withdraw.

“No,” Isshin said firmly, straightening in his seat. The girl turned back to him in surprise. “No,” he repeated. “Please come in. Sit.”

“Ah, I was just a bit thirsty--”

“Water or tea or what?” Isshin asked as he stood.

“That really won't be necessary,” Homura objected.

Isshin _looked_ at her. “Please, sit. Water, tea, soda...?”

Homura hesitated, then carefully approached the table. “Just water is fine.”

“Right,” Isshin said as he took her glass, filled it, and returned to the table. Homura accepted her glass with a murmured thanks but stared at him uncertainly. He sat and stared calmly back as she kept her eyes on him while she sipped. It was like convincing a skittish deer to eat from your hand without fleeing. Isshin was also distinctly reminded of the wary faces his girls made when he called for a family meeting out of the blue.

His girls.

“The other me wrote about you,” Isshin began with a nod to his notebook. “About things he wanted to say to you.”

Homura's cautious expression shuttered into aloofness. “I do not presume to expect you to think of me the same way as your other self. It would be unfair to you,” she said without affectation.

“Ah, so I _did_ talk to you,” Isshin said with a faint smile.

The magical girl pursed her lips. “Yes. But as I said--”

“Thank you.”

Homura drew up short and blinked in surprise. “I'm sorry?”

“I said thank you,” Isshin repeated earnestly. “Thank you for taking on the project of saving my girls. You should be the last person responsible for their well-being but for whatever reason, you opted to take on that burden when the ones you carry are already so heavy. So thank you.”

Homura's lips curved into a troubled frown as she sat back. “I deserve no thanks. My time travel in itself has saved no one. The situation with Walpurgisnacht and the Incubator-- this King's Key-- It's not selfless.”

“I understand you have bigger fish to fry,” Isshin said with a dismissive wave. “You decided to contact us before that... that apocalyptic mess.” He steepled his fingers together and peered at her appraisingly. “If I-- and that other me-- if I'm right, you've been burned by seeking help in the past. It was brave of you to agree to this even before you knew how much it involves the shinigami. So thank you.” He stared directly into her eyes. “My household will always be open to you. In any timeline. Just give me the notebook again.”

Homura flushed and floundered about a bit, then looked down at her water. “I-- I don't deserve any thanks,” she insisted.

“Stop saying that,” Isshin said with a disapproving frown. “You stumbled your way into the most thankless of jobs and you're trying your best. Have been trying your best past the point where even a lot of adults would have given up. That's admirable. So thank you.”

Cheeks pink, Homura was quiet for a long time. “You're-- you're welcome?” she said uncertainly.

Isshin grinned tiredly and stood. “Thatta girl,” he said proudly. He reached over the table and ruffled her hair. She squeaked and looked up at him in owlish surprise. As he walked past her, he paused to lightly clasp her shoulder. “Fill your cup and go crash with the rest of the hooligans. I'm going to bed. We both need to sleep.” He tapped her forehead with one finger. “You gave that sharp brain of yours a real workout today, Miss Social Strategist. Go give it a rest. Good night. Morning. Whatever.”

Isshin could _feel_ her confused stare at his back as he disappeared up the stairs.

§ x § x §

The teenagers had crashed hard and didn't start waking up until noon. Yuzu dragged Karin into the kitchen to make brunch. Ichigo hastily insisted guests not help to keep Orihime out of the kitchen. The older teens blearily tried to engage Homura in conversation. She was curled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket over her shoulders, blinking at them drowsily and mostly staring, but occasionally gave brief answers. Then Yuzu came back and announced brunch with a wan smile. Everyone stood.

Uryū smoothed his rumpled clothes. “I need to go do some research.”

Yuzu directed her smile at him. “Please stay for brunch.”

“Ah, I need to try to finish before Urahara finishes his--”

“You can't study on an empty stomach.” The brunette's smile intensified. “ _Please stay for brunch._ ”

“.....Right. Brunch,” Uryū stammered, uncannily reminded of the captain of the Fourth Division.

Isshin was sitting at the table when they entered. He nodded at them as they sat down. The meal was awkward, stilted attempts at idle chitchat failing until Karin finally gave up on talking about mundane things.

“So, Homura,” she began curiously. “How much stuff fits in that shield of yours?”

Homura blinked slowly and peered at her strangely. “I have yet to find a limit.”

“Wait, seriously?” asked Ichigo.

“Yes.”

“ _Cool_ ,” Karin said. She leaned forward. “So, what, it's like a black hole in a bag? A bottomless pit?” She looked at her brother. “Ichi-nii, can Urahara make me something that does the same thing? Maybe a backpack?”

Ichigo knit his brows. “Why?”

“Just think of all the soccer equipment I could carry!”

After a long, deadpan stare, her brother said, “I should have known you would say that.”

Karin rolled her eyes and turned back to Homura. “What kind of stuff do you carry in it?”

Homura shifted a bit uncomfortably. She didn't want to make things serious again by bringing up her arsenal. “Ah, a bit of everything, really.”

“Ah! Your suitcase!” Yuzu said with sudden understanding. “You didn't have one when we brought you home but you had one that night. Is that where it was?”

Homura nodded quietly.

Uryū narrowed his eyes, considering. “Is the suitcase bigger across than your shield?”

Homura stared at him, face blank, and did not reply. Karin answered for her with a popping “Yep!”

The Quincy hummed thoughtfully. “Is there a size limit on what you can store?”

The magical girl turned her attention to her plate, ignoring his question in favor of the remaining fruit. Uryū opened his mouth but Isshin caught his eye and made a small gesture to stop pressing her. The Quincy pursed his lips and pushed his glasses up his nose.

Karin picked up the thread of conversation and ran in a less serious direction. “The important question is: Do you have a kitchen sink in there?”

“No.” Homura tilted her head in confusion. “Why would I?”

Fingers drumming together and grinning fiendishly, Karin answered, “You need to put a kitchen sink in your shield. _Need to_. Any time someone asks if you have a kitchen sink, you will _break their brains_ if you haul one out for them.”

Homura thought of the several times Kyōko had said to her _Holy shit, you keep everything but the kitchen sink in there!_ “Ah.” Her brows knit. “Why would I want to?”

Ichigo snorted and Isshin grinned faintly, though he looked a bit sad. Chad's lips twitched in amusement. Karin looked appalled. “Because it's _funny_. Duh.”

“Oh.” Jokes weren't really her strong suit.

Uryū disappeared after the meal. Ichigo and Chad washed dishes as Karin coaxed all the teens into agreeing to play soccer one by one. It didn't take much effort as everyone wanted a distraction anyway. Tōshirō joined them halfway to the park, walking toward them from Urahara Shop in a gigai and modern clothing and looking like he hadn't slept much. They had been playing for an hour when Karin's friends showed up.

“Heyyy, Kurosaki!” one of the boys shouted. “The teacher said you were really sick!”

“You don't look sick to me,” another called suspiciously.

Karin glared at them. “Snitches get stitches, Ryohei.”

The boys shuddered and shuffled awkwardly. One of them muttered, “It must be great to have a doctor willing to lie for you for a dad.”

“What? I couldn't hear you,” Karin said loudly, twisting a pinkie finger in one ear. Probably a lie, Homura thought, since she had heard it clearly herself. It must be one of the things Karin did for fun. Seeing them squirm _was_ a bit amusing.

The boys joined their game. Though they were usually rather clueless, apparently they picked up on the edgy distraction of everyone else playing because they would give each other uncomfortable glances as the afternoon wore on.

The sky was dimming into early twilight when Ichigo's cell phone shrilled out Isshin's annoying ringtone. Everyone but Karin's friends were suddenly alert. Ichigo answered, spoke with his father and hung up. He looked around at all the faces keenly watching him for some clue as to whether it was bad news. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head and glanced at Karin's friends before calling out, “Hey, Dad said Urahara's invited us over for dinner before we go back to the condo. Homura's staying at the house so she can come, but, uh, you boys... there's no room for you, sorry. It's gonna be a tight fit as it is.”

The boys looked dismayed.

“Dinner at the candy shop?!”

“ _How?!_ ”

Karin folded her arms behind her head and feigned nonchalance. “Didn't I ever tell you my old man is buddies with the candyman?” By the affronted looks on the boys' faces, the answer was a resounding _no_.

“What?!”

“No way!”

“Awwww!”

“You get to do all the cool things, Karin!”

Karin held herself straighter and preened. “Of course I do. I'm awesome.”

Yuzu laughed halfheartedly and Tōshirō pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh.

Homura, cheeks still pink with exertion as she breathed deeply, just turned toward the shop and started walking. She wanted this over with as quickly as possible.

She had a Witch hunt to lead.

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Adulting can be so time-consuming (u.u)


	41. VIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: God I love reading your reviews. Observations and guesses. Love it. Thank you so much.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**VIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Uryū approached his father's office in Karakura Hospital with a grim face, running over his arguments in his head. Overcoming Ryūken's obstruction of all things Quincy was not going to be fun, but he wanted a frame of reference before he started digging into the old records. The Director had his secretary make his son wait in the receiving area for forty minutes, of course-- a frequent test of how serious his son was about whatever spiritual matter drove him to actually go to the office during business hours. Uryū's obstinacy won the day and he was finally admitted to the impersonal office.

Ryūken Ishida didn't bother to look up, instead rifling through a manila folder. “What.”

Accustomed to his father's distant personality, Uryū said, “I need to ask you something about Quincy history.”

“No.”

Uryū scowled. “There is a spiritual predator that has tricked the Kurosaki girls into selling their souls to get power and a wish in exchange for a commitment to fight Hollow-like entities. It claims to have preyed on Quincy girls in the past. I need to corroborate this.”

Ryūken actually glanced up. He stared expressionlessly for a long minute. “Convinced Quincy girls to sell their souls for power and a wish.”

“Yes.” Uryū pursed his lips. “Have you heard about such a thing?”

Ryūken's mouth tightened minutely. “Explain the allegation.”

Irritation made Uryū's eye twitch, but he was used to his father's non-answers. He explained the basics of the Incubator's system without even breathing of time travel or the term _magical girl_ , knowing Ryūken would immediately dismiss him. The fact that the man actually paid direct attention was a sign that he was being taken seriously and he was _not_ going to ruin it. After the explanation, Uryū waited for his father to say something. And waited. And waited. “Well? Have you heard of anything like it?”

Ryūken blinked slowly, then turned back to his folder. “Begin with the genealogies. Cross reference potentially relevant deaths with the histories for context.” It was an obvious dismissal.

Uryū grit his teeth, nodded curtly, and departed for the family archives.

§ x § x §

Ryūken stared blankly at the papers in his folder for several minutes after his son left. Eventually, his eyes slid over to the only personal item he kept in his entire office: A simple photograph of his late wife, Kanae. He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lit one, and took a long drag.

“Selling power and wishes, eh?” he said quietly to her picture.

And here he had thought his wife had been babbling senselessly, delirious on painkillers after giving birth to their son by Caesarian section. _Probably still delirious_ , he thought, _but perhaps not completely out of touch with reality._

“ _Do you remember when we were young? When we were in middle school?” Kanae had asked him in a breathy lilt from the mountain of pillows that supported her so she could hold her newborn and gaze at him lovingly. “I looked up to you so much. Dedicated myself to you so much. Wished I was Echt like Masaki so much. Wished to be healthy enough, strong enough, powerful enough to be your equal._ So. Much. _”_

“ _Kanae, you need to rest--”_

“ _I almost made that wish, you know,” she said dreamily as she drew one finger across her baby's knuckles until the little hand opened and clasped her finger. “For real. But I couldn't do it.”_

“ _What are you talking about?”_

“ _A little creature came to me and said if I made a wish, it could grant it with magic and make me stronger at the same time. I'd just have to fight a different kind of Hollow, and I fought Hollows already. I could wish to be Echt, or the most powerful Quincy alive, or even that your betrothal would be nullified. I thought and thought and thought, but I couldn't do it.” Kanae had looked up from their son's tiny face, glassy eyes not quite focusing on her husband. “It wouldn't have been honest. It wouldn't have been fair to you.” Tears slid down her cheeks._

“ _Kanae,” Ryūken had said haltingly. “Kanae, I think you were dreaming. Give Uryū to me. You need to sleep.”_

“ _A dream? It felt so real....” She trailed off and looked back down at her son as he shifted against her chest. “But I'm so happy I didn't do it. I'm so happy. I didn't need a wish, or to be different. You love me as I am. I was enough by myself. And we have a baby now. I'm so happy. I'm so happy.”_

_If she remembered the exchange after the drugs wore off, she never spoke of it._

Ryūken exhaled and looked at his wife's portrait through the smoke. “It seems I owe you another apology, Kanae.”

§ x § x §

Kisuke sat at the table in the shop's back room, shuffling between papers and a tablet as he reviewed his research. Jinta was absent, minding the shop, and Ururu and Tessai were puttering around in the kitchen preparing dinner. Yoruichi sauntered into the room in human form, plopped a file folder on the table, and sat.

“I fleshed out your dossier on Akemi as much as I could,” she announced as she noted the dark circles under her friend's eyes. “Sad stuff but no red flags. Her parents died not quite two years ago. She was hospitalized for a cardiac incident at the time. The story about the globetrotting uncle also appears to be true. Rich family. Most of the girl's inheritance is held in trust, but disbursements for medical and living expenses are allowed. A generous stipend for food and other necessities is deposited into her active account once a week. None of the withdrawals from the trust look suspicious. All match payments on file with the medical procedures, the move, and so on. Looks like she moved to Mitakihara a few months ago to do an outpatient clinical trial before being admitted for monitoring and surgery. She was just discharged on the sixteenth. She has her own little townhouse in the city.”

Kisuke raised an eyebrow. “No adult supervision?”

“Apparently not,” Yoruichi answered with a shrug.

Kisuke hummed, murmured his thanks, and tucked the file into a box to his side.

Yoruichi leaned back on her hands. “So what's the verdict on this mess?” she asked with a wave at the tabletop.

“...Interesting,” Kisuke muttered.

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“Disturbing.”

“A given, I'd assume.” She peered at him askance. “You're not going to say anything until you have more information from whatever the hell we do tonight, are you?”

Kisuke beamed at her. “Nope!”

Yoruichi sighed. “Do you at least think the threat is credible?”

“Oh, yes. Indeed I do,” Kisuke said softly.

She drummed her fingers on the table for a minute. “Right. So we're going hunting tonight. Anything you want me to keep an eye out for?”

Kisuke's eyes sharpened. He signaled for Tessai to approach. When he had both of them, he said, “Tessai, pay particular attention to Miss Akemi's use of her temporal stasis technique. I want to know how similar it is to Jikanteishi. You're the expert there. I'll give you something to help with that after dinner.” Tessai nodded assent. Kisuke turned to Yoruichi. “I want you to analyze the techniques and powers of the magical girls. See if you can identify the commonalities and differences between what they do and shinigami techniques.”

“Sure.” Yoruichi threw a lazy salute. “And you'll be...?”

“Observing everything to some extent, but largely monitoring sensors about this pocket dimension and the abilities of whatever opponents we find within.”

Soon, the others arrived for an awkward dinner. They quickly gave up on small talk in favor of grilling Uryū on what he had found in his spontaneous research. He repeatedly demurred, saying he was nowhere near done, but did let slip that he had found several suspiciously young deaths of Quincy girls compared to Quincy boys to investigate. Kisuke, eyes sharp, looked like he was itching to get into the Quincy archives himself. Uryū just gave him an unimpressed stare.

Once done, they focused on planning their evening. Given the difficulty Homura described finding the particular Witch they were seeking, they laid out a broad search pattern. Since Urahara Shop was on the far eastern edge of town, they decided to begin their search two train stops into the next city over and work their way west. They began at twilight and divided into three search parties to move along the railway corridor in tandem. Yuzu's team took the street north of the tracks, Karin's team took the street south of the tracks, and Homura's team walked the tracks themselves. Kisuke walked with Homura, watching his sensor device. Isshin, Ichigo, and Tōshirō ghosted along the rooftops and power poles in shinigami form to keep an eye on them all, having abandoned their bodies at the shop. They moved carefully westward, watching the dull glow of the three Soul Gems. It was tense but tedious work. They had reached the train trestle over the Karasu River that bisected town when Yuzu slightly raised her reiatsu to signal everyone that her Soul Gem had sensed something. Her team stopped while the others continued westward until Homura's Gem began to glow as well. She signaled as Yuzu had. Karin's team continued west for a bit, then veered north and backtracked until her Gem glowed as well. The search parties began wandering toward the center of their triangle, following whichever paths made their Gems glow brighter as Kisuke frowned at his sensor. They met up at a point halfway between the river and the Old Karakura Train Station, by a glass collectibles shop north of the tracks.

Karin huffed and complained aloud, “She's hiding practically in our back yard.”

“How's your dowsing rod, Kisuke?” Yoruichi called from Yuzu's group.

Kisuke hummed. “It only started picking up a slight distortion about forty meters back,” he announced. He looked up and glanced at the three points of light that made up their triangle, Soul Gems glowing brightly. “Far less sensitive than Soul Gems. I'll have to play with calibration later.”

“Something feels weird,” Jinta said suspiciously.

“I feel it,” Uryū said quietly. “Very faintly.”

“I think I see the distortion,” Tōshirō said as he alighted next to Karin. He squinted and pointed. “Like a heat haze. There. Is that it?”

“Yep!” Karin answered with forced cheer. “Watch this.” She stepped toward it and brandished her Soul Gem. It flared with ruby light, which triggered a flash of orange light. Afterward, the distorted air had a large orange symbol floating in its center. It looked like a pumpkin with a clock face, set against the outline of butterfly wings. Kisuke's sensor beeped.

“Ah, I _really_ feel it now!” Orihime gasped.

Isshin narrowed his eyes. “It feels like a Garganta. Kinda.”

“Fascinating,” Kisuke muttered as he inspected the sigil with his sensor. Everyone stood and watched him fiddle around with assorted gadgets for nearly ten minutes. Finally, he straightened and looked around. “Now what, girls?”

“We go in,” Homura said coolly. She strode through the portal without waiting for questions, moving to the edge of the platform within and peering around. The others appeared behind her one by one and craned their heads to look at their surroundings. There were haphazard train tracks and tunnels zigzagging about. Industrial wreckage littered every surface that did not host rails. A multitude of clocks adorned every vertical surface, causing an echoing cacophony of asynchronous ticking. Blooming jacaranda branches sprawled along the ceiling, painted lady butterflies darting about the lavender flowers. The air was heavy with _presence_.

“Please don't go wandering away from us without warning again,” Isshin said disapprovingly.

Homura looked at him over her shoulder and raised a brow. “I said I was going in.”

Ishhin opened his mouth to speak, made a gesture, and stopped himself. He sighed deeply. “Wait for us to actually respond next time.”

Homura blinked owlishly and shrugged, then turned to face forward. She held her Soul Gem up. “Karin. Yuzu.”

The chamber was awash in colored light as the three girls transformed. Karin and Yuzu stepped up to either side of Homura.

“Oh my God,” Jinta said dully.

The three girls looked back at him. He was obviously staring at Yuzu, cheeks pink. Yuzu tilted her head. “What's wrong, Jinta?”

The boy went bright red and looked away from the frilly yellow costume. “N-nothing.”

Karin snickered. Yuzu looked confused.

Homura turned back to face everyone. “Mr. Urahara wants to observe magical girl techniques, so Karin, Yuzu, and I will take point. You follow us and provide support if needed. Observe as much as you can-- I don't know of another Witch nearby, so this may be your only chance for now. I will give further instructions when we near the center of the labyrinth.” She lifted her chin imperiously. “Questions?”

Ichigo made a sound of protest and opened his mouth-- likely to insist his sisters not fight-- but Isshin grabbed his shoulder and squeezed firmly to stop him. His son looked at him to argue, but found his father's face grim and worried as his probably was.

Isshin met his son's eyes. “They need to do this, Ichigo,” he muttered. “Keep an eye out for them, intervene if you need to, but this is their cause. They need to do _something_ to contribute to this situation or they'll feel helpless and guilty.”

Ichigo's face contorted with frustration, but he settled. He understood the feeling.

“A suggestion,” Tessai said as he stepped forward. “If I understand correctly, your greatest vulnerability is your Soul Gem, correct?”

Everyone's eyes jumped to the citrine at Yuzu's throat. Yuzu froze and swallowed hard, drawing her hand up to it.

“Yes,” Homura replied.

Tessai nodded curtly. “If you will allow me, I can cast kidō shields around them.”

The Kurosaki girls cheered up and immediately approached the big kidō master. Homura stared at him in shock and watched as he cast glowing bubbles around the ruby and the citrine. He looked up at her and held his hands out in invitation. Homura blinked, mouth opening and closing a few times before she could speak. “You-- you can do that?”

“Tessai's _awesome_ ,” Karin interrupted.

Tessai smiled faintly. “Yes, I can.”

Homura looked suspiciously at the bubbles on the other girls' Soul Gems. Yuzu understood and walked up to Homura and made an inviting gesture. Homura poked the shield around the Gem at her throat, getting a feel for it and what it did. It was vaguely similar to the barriers some magical girls could cast.

Why the _hell_ hadn't she thought of this before?

Her frustration must have shown on her face, because Karin wryly said, “Yeah, right? I'm feeling pretty stupid.”

Yuzu gave a weak, self-deprecating laugh. Homura huffed and walked up to Tessai. She cautiously held out her left hand, exposing the diamond-shaped amethyst on its back. Tessai carefully hovered his hands over it and generated a bubble. Homura stepped back and inspected it critically. It didn't feel restrictive; it actually felt weaker from the inside than the one on Yuzu's Gem had felt.

Tessai correctly interpreted her baffled face. “It's a variant of a barrier called Kyōmon. It is very strong from the outside but easily broken from the inside.”

Homura peered up at him and tilted her head. She appreciated the thoughtful choice and indicated it with a serious nod as she withdrew. Tessai, a man of few words himself, returned the nod.

The time traveler held herself regally again, dismissing the presence of their observers. “Karin, Yuzu, have you already been to the center of this labyrinth?”

“Just the once,” Karin answered. “Like a week ago. Too many damn Familiars. She ran away when we were busy.”

Homura nodded sharply. “We will use the same tactics we did in the previous timeline, as they worked well to get to the center. When we reach chambers full of Familiars, I will use a widespread attack. When I stop, you two rush in to eliminate those that remain.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yuzu said with a firm nod.

Karin glanced over her shoulder at their friends and family. “You guys ready?”

Kisuke held up his sensor and the others made sounds of agreement. The group set off down a tunnel, following the lead of Homura's glowing Soul Gem. Soon, they emerged into what appeared to be a large subway station studded with clocks, the floor covered in scattered wreckage and pumpkins of varying sizes and the ceiling decorated with jacarandas. The Familiars were plainly visible on a far platform. They were scarecrows the size of men with gigantic turnips for heads. All were dressed as train conductors. A whistle was jammed into each turnip where a mouth would be on a human face. They topped off their surreality with a pair of glimmering fairy wings on their backs. Six of them span in circles on the platform. The girls' backup reacted in several different ways-- curiosity, bewilderment, suspicion.

“Ready?” Homura asked coldly as she reached into her shield. The sisters materialized their weapons, to the surprise of their observers, and agreed. Homura hauled a FN Minimi out of the shield and took aim as the others made sounds of shock.

“Holy _shit_ , is that a _machine gun?!_ ” Jinta screeched. He was immediately drowned out by thundering gunfire.

Homura released the trigger and lowered the muzzle. Karin and Yuzu leapt forward to take out the two stragglers. They made short work of the scarecrows as their observers made a lot of noise.

Karin perched on the edge of the platform, her sword hand fisted against one hip while the other screwed one finger around in her ear. “Dammit, Homura, give a girl some _warning_ before you shoot a _fucking machine gun_ like right next to her ears!” she snarled.

“What,” Tōshirō said blankly, hands massaging his temples.

Homura reloaded and snapped the ammo tray closed. “My apologies,” she said, not sounding sorry at all as everyone winced, held their ears, or did jaw exercises to overcome their sudden ringing. Only Kisuke, Tessai, and Yoruichi seemed unaffected.

“What?” Orihime asked dazedly.

“Where the _hell_ did you get a gun?!” Ichigo screamed.

“What?” Jinta said loudly.

Homura glanced at Ichigo, dismissing her déjà vu as she always did. “My shield.”

“What?!” Ichigo demanded.

The magical girl looked a bit impatient. “I store conventional weaponry in my shield.”

“You have _more_?” Uryū squawked.

“Of course.”

“You're _fourteen_ ,” Isshin said in a disturbed voice.

“So?”

“So how did you get machine guns?!”

“That's not important,” Homura said breezily as she faced the front again. Homura turned to the next doorway and brushed her hair behind her shoulders. “Come.”

Several of the others sputtered in disbelief, but Kisuke immediately followed her, seeming to completely ignore the mundane weapon in the girl's hand.

The party continued through the subway tunnels, using the same strategy every time they came to a subway station. As they progressed, each station housed more Familiars and butterflies than the last and the scent of jacaranda flowers became much more cloying. After more than half an hour, they came out of a curve in the tunnel and saw that the next archway was larger and far more ornate, indecipherable runes etched in the bricks.

“This is it,” said Yuzu.

The trio carefully approached the tunnel exit and peeked around its sides. Kisuke and some of the others peered over their shoulders. Before them was an enormous brick chamber. Instead of a subway platform, the cavern housed a sprawling train switch yard with tracks that snaked around and into adjacent tunnels. The timepieces on the walls ranged from pocket watches to cuckoo clocks to ornate grandfather clocks. Jacaranda tree trunks surrounded the cavern, forming a fragrant lavender canopy over the room as they branched out into the tunnels. Lantern-like glass slippers filled with smoldering embers dangled from the branches. A huge bell was suspended from the apex of the ceiling. Beneath the bell, all the various train rails converged into a train turntable. Pumpkins connected by vines made of wire were strewn about the spaces between tracks. Upon the center point of the entire room sat the Witch's decoy.

The decoy's base was a huge jack-o'-lantern that took up most of the space on the turntable. An over-sized vintage plaster mannequin protruded from the top of the ja **c** k-o'-lantern from the hips up, lifeless e **y** es staring vaca **n** tly. A gauzy black ballroom skir **t** flowed down from its waist and encircled t **h** e pumpk **i** n base except for the glowing j **a** ck-o'-lantern face; jacaranda flowers decorated its waist. It wore a black bodice and its stiff arms were covered with black elbow gloves. Atop its head sat the cut-out lid of the jack-o'-lantern, its thick stem making it resemble a top hat. A mourning veil trailed down from the pumpkin-hat. The entire ensemble was completed with an upside-down pair of painted lady butterfly wings at the mannequin's back. The decoy was not facing the party directly, but was turned about fifteen degrees away from them.

The cavern was crowded with a different sort of Familiar than the turnip-headed fairy conductors. Clockwork creatures made of bare gears and metal whirled around the floor of the chamber in an intricate waltz. Vaguely-female Familiars bore short pseudo-skirts made of jacaranda branches trailing flowers; their partners wore pumpkin-lid top hats on their heads. Their dancing carried them around the rail yard pumpkin patch without tripping.

“Did you give us drugs with dinner, Boss?” Jinta asked suspiciously.

Kisuke chirped “Not this time!” and Tessai cuffed the back of Jinta's head.

“Okay,” Karin began, matter-of-fact. “We know the dancing thingies can make their hands turn into bayonet-things to slice with. They keep spinning so the room may as well be a gauntlet. We didn't manage to get to the actual Witch last time so we have no clue what it-- she-- does.”

Homura hummed in consideration as she surveyed the cavern, calculating a new plan based on the failures of the previous timeline. “The pumpkin doll is not the Witch,” she said absently. “Not directly. It's a decoy. That was our mistake last time. It's the most complex Witch... Familiar... decoy I've ever encountered. Others are much stronger, but this one is tricky.”

There was a long beat of silence before Karin muttered, “Well, shit.”

Seeing that Kisuke was busy fiddling with his tech toys, Yoruichi drawled, “So what _is_ the target?”

Staring intently, Homura pointed to the crown of the roof. “The bell.”

Everyone squinted into the dim upper reaches of the ceiling. The bell loomed over them, mostly visible by the reflected orange glow from the glass slipper lanterns.

“How did you take it out last time?” Karin asked. “'Cause that thing is way up. I dunno how I'd get to it without bouncing off the... decoy thing.”

“I fired a few RPGs at it,” Homura answered in a distracted tone.

After a moment of incredulous silence, Uryū said, “I'm sorry, do you mean _rocket-propelled grenades?_ ”

“Yes.”

“You carry _rocket-propelled grenades_ in your shield?!” he screeched.

Homura glanced at him in irritation. “Yes.”

Ichigo spluttered. “What _else_ do you have in there, _bombs?!_ ”

Again, a blandly impatient, “Yes.”

“I was _joking!_ ”

“Homura,” Isshin ventured, disturbed. “Machine guns, grenades, bombs...? Where do you get it all?”

“Most of my munitions are appropriated from JSDF bases,” Homura began.

“ _Appropriated_ ,” Uryū muttered scandalously.

“But I make the various bombs myself,” the magical girl finished with a dismissive wave.

“You... you know how to make bombs,” Isshin said dully.

“Who taught you?” Kisuke asked quietly.

Homura turned to him and saw his sharp eyes weighing her. “The internet.”

He stared at her for a long minute. “I see.” Considering the main chamber again, he asked Homura to describe the battle she had survived. Homura complied with curt, emotionless sentences that made everyone eye the decoy more and more warily. She abruptly stopped.

“And then...?” Tōshirō asked.

Homura shifted uneasily, but kept her face impassive. “Then Mr. Tsukabishi's shields would have been useful.”

Silence.

Isshin compulsively reached forward and patted Yuzu's hair as though to be certain she was still with them.

“You've seen us fighting the Familiars up to now,” Homura continued. “I think it would be best to minimize risk and take out the bell from a distance without engaging the Familiars and decoy.” She glanced at the scientist sideways. “Unless you want to see us fight it?”

Kisuke adjusted his hat on his head, taking the moment to think as everyone turned to him. He deliberately avoided the eyes of the Kurosaki men, knowing they were probably looking rather intense. “No, I don't think so. Not if it's as complex as you say. I just want to record the lead-up and aftermath of the defeat to capture what happens to turn all of this into one of those Grief Seeds.”

Homura gave a businesslike nod, stuffed the machine gun into her shield, and withdrew an RPG launcher. And another. And another.

“Holy _shit_ youweren'tkidding,” Jinta breathed, eyes wide.

Ururu carefully dodged to the front of the group. “I can help,” she murmured, holding her shoulder-cannon up to show the magical girl. Homura nodded acceptance.

“Um, do you need more help, Homura?” Yuzu asked nervously. “I don't think you can do three at once....”

Homura tossed her hair over her shoulder, nonchalant as though a cavern full of whirling death wasn't behind her. “That's what my time-stop is for.”

Several of the combatants perked up in interest. Kisuke leaned forward as Homura turned away. “I want to see.”

The magical girl glanced at him over her shoulder. “Having you hold onto me will ruin my aim.”

Kisuke pouted. Tessai cleared his throat. “Would a kidō that linked us together be sufficient? I can tie the end to your ankle.”

Homura raised an eyebrow. “Like a... ribbon?”

The big man nodded. “Yes. But made of reishi.”

“...Magic?”

Karin interrupted with, “Close enough.”

Homura narrowed her eyes and thought of the occasions when Mami linked them with magic ribbons for joint attacks that caused massive damage. “...Show me.”

Tessai nodded once, gestured with his hands, and a bolt of yellow energy lanced out to loop around Yoruichi's wrist. Yoruichi held her hand up to show that she wasn't being harmed by the crackling binding, swinging her arm around to show she retained mobility.

“It's called Hainawa,” Yoruichi drawled.

Homura inclined her chin. “I suppose.” She watched carefully as Tessai made a cord of energy dart out and coil around her ankle, then lightly twisted her foot around to test and inspect it as Tessai used the same technique to link the entire party together. Kisuke shoved a device into Yoruichi's hand. She glanced at it and idly pointed it at the bell. Another gadget was shoved at Jinta, who grumbled but cooperated and also pointed it at the bell. Tessai adjusted his glasses and faced Homura instead of the bell. Kisuke eagerly messed with another item and pointed it at the bell.

“Ready when you are,” he said, mouth grinning beneath hard eyes.

Homura activated her sand timer with a thought. With a series of clicks and whirs, their surroundings suddenly froze. The lanterns didn't flicker; the automatons' dance went still. Color itself dulled under the technique.

“No fair,” Karin said as Homura bent to retrieve an RPG launcher. “That makes it so easy to pick off whatever you want.”

Homura shrugged. She glanced at Ururu. “You fire first.”

The shop girl glanced at Homura, then stepped away from the group, intently locked onto her target, and fired her shoulder-mounted spirit cannon. The projectile shot out a good ten meters before freezing in midair. Ururu lowered her weapon and turned to watch Homura. The magical girl squinted, calculating the blast's trajectory, and side-stepped a few paces to fire the first of her RPGs. She immediately tossed the launcher away with a careless movement; it tumbled for a moment before stopping midair. Homura returned, picked up the second RPG launcher, and stepped to the other side. She repeated her actions then returned for the final RPG, tested the cord on her ankle, and walked forward several meters to fire the third RPG below Ururu's projectile. The magical girl strode back to the party, cocked her head, and asked, “Are you ready?”

When she had the all-clear, Homura allowed time to resume. Two seconds later came a magnificent quadruple explosion and the clanging of the iron bell shearing into multiple pieces. Yuzu cast her barrier to block the shrapnel, but it had already begun to wobble out of existence as the pocket dimension collapsed and condensed into a Grief Seed, leaving them back in front of the collectibles shop in the darkness between street lights.

“ _Epic_ ,” Jinta said in awe.

The magical girls immediately released their transformations. Karin approached the Grief Seed with subdued steps and gently lifted it from the pavement. She stared at it, transfixed, an oddly conflicted expression on her face. Yuzu hesitantly stepped to her side and leaned into her twin with a half-hug as Tessai silently dispelled the kidō. Isshin walked up behind the girls and set his hands on their shoulders. He smiled down at them and hoarsely said, “Come on, girls, let's go back to the shop.”

On some unanimously superstitious level, no one wanted to overtly celebrate that the twins had cheated death.

Yuzu reached up and squeezed her father's hand, then stepped forward and pulled her sister along behind her. Ichigo hovered behind them like a mother hen. The others started to trail along after them.

Homura twitched and looked up in surprise as Isshin's hand fell on her shoulder. She blinked up at him in silent question. The man made a motion as though to wipe his eyes, but diverted to scrub his hand over his mouth and blow out a hard sigh. He squeezed her shoulder tightly. “Thank you,” he rasped.

Homura shuffled and glanced aside, melancholy. “I don't deserve--”

Isshin squeezed her shoulder again. “What have I said about that?”

She shyly clasped her hands together and looked at her feet, cheeks warm. “Y-you're welcome?”

Isshin barked a tearful laugh and ruffled her hair. “Thatta girl.” He walked forward, then turned and beckoned her. His face was smiling but his eyes were wet. “C'mon. Let's go.”

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: When I first started this story, I didn't think I'd end up liking to write Isshin as much as I have come to. He has a mind of his own.
> 
> See you soon!


	42. EINUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You would have had this sooner but an electrical storm murdered my wifi, womp womp. It's Mama Nature's fault. Blame her.
> 
> @Guest: I used to do weekly updates, but now that I've really settled into my job I don't have as much time to write. My realistic aim now is two to three weeks between chapters, depending on how many clients I have each week.
> 
> Eagle (Guest) – You need to leave a signed review so we can frolic about in PMs. Regarding ships: I only have concrete plans for one ship, and those characters haven't met yet. And vague plans for a couple others that are damn near canon and haven't shown up at all yet.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**EINUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

The party settled in at Urahara Shop once again. Tessai served them all ice cream in a bizarre gesture of normalcy as they sat around the table to discuss everything. A loud smack drew their divided attention to Kisuke, who was sitting with a bowl of ice cream in one hand and his fan in the other.

“Okay!” the scientist announced. “I will analyze the data we collected tonight later! Question time for you lovely ladies!”

Homura stiffened. Karin grimaced. Yuzu nervously pushed her ice cream around with her spoon. Kisuke proceeded to grill them on how Familiars functioned, how the girls performed their various techniques, summoned their weapons, and so on.

“That's enough to work with for now. In the next few days, I'll ask you three to come--”

“No.”

Everyone turned to Homura, whose lips were turned down into a stubborn frown.

“Excuse me?” Kisuke asked.

“No. I'm not staying a few more days. I'm going back to Mitakihara in the morning.”

Everyone stared. Kisuke recovered and said, “Miss Akemi, I need to investigate more fully-- observe live demonstrations--”

“No,” Homura insisted. “You can ask me by phone, but I _must_ be back in Mitakihara. Without my interference, Madoka will contract tomorrow afternoon. I won't allow it.”

Kisuke's frown matched hers. “We have Miss Inoue to--”

Homura narrowed her eyes. “You know as well as I do that the possibility of her reversing the contract is conjecture at best.”

Several people raised their eyebrows and looked to Kisuke.

The scientist bit his cheek. “...I concede your point.”

The magical girl inclined her chin in acknowledgment.

“But how do you expect me to be able to help you if you distance yourself from me and my base of operations?”

“You are intelligent,” Homura said coolly. “I presume you are capable of solving such a problem.”

Kisuke's intense gray eyes bored into her for a long minute. “How do you know she'll contract tomorrow? You estimated a few days before.”

“Statistics.” Homura pushed a strand of hair behind one ear. “Over the course of many timelines, I have determined a pattern for her contracting. I confirmed early on that unless I am present to alter events, Madoka will encounter the Incubator on her way home from school tomorrow. It will trick her into wishing to heal a cat that she witnesses being hit by a car. I suspect the Incubator doesn't move more quickly because it wants Madoka to make a weak wish and is stalking her for an opportunity to convince her to make one.” She tilted her head. “In my experience, if I am present over the weekend, it is easier to delay or eliminate the encounter by indirect means. In waiting this long to approach Madoka, I have eliminated a wide array of potential distractions and will likely have to interfere directly.”

Frowning harder and tapping his fan absentmindedly, Kisuke tilted his head and said, “You said you would stay a few days. I didn't take you for a liar.”

“I said no such thing,” Homura sniffed as she turned her attention to her ice cream. “You and Ms. Yoruichi were the ones to bring up a term of 'a few days leeway'. Monday is the second day after that conversation. Two is within the span of 'a few', which is generally accepted to be three or four.”

A self-deprecating grin spread on Yoruichi's face. “You weren't convinced by my argument at all, were you? You just dropped the subject so we'd shut up.”

Homura inclined her chin in a snobby affirmative. Yoruichi laughed darkly. Honest frustration made Kisuke press his lips together like a parent having trouble controlling an unruly child.

“Kisuke,” Isshin said quietly, face somewhere between entertained and disturbed. “Kisuke, this is what it's like to be friends with _you_. My god.” He couldn't stop himself from chuckling lowly.

Kisuke blew a deep breath out his nostrils and reconsidered his options. Recognizing her friend's recalculating expression, Yoruichi stalled for time. “So, let's back up a second. The girl who can one-shot Walpurgisnacht contracted... to save a _cat_.”

Homura's eyes darted from one former Second Division officer to the other, plainly figuring they were distracting her. She allowed it to continue for now. “Yes. In many timelines in which she contracts before Walpurgisnacht, anyway. A black cat she named Amy. She is a stray that won't let herself be adopted. Madoka calls her independent. She is concerned for Amy's welfare and assists her when she can.”

Yoruichi's face turned sly. “An independent black cat, you say?” Her eyes slid to Kisuke for a moment, then back to Homura. “So she likes cats?”

The magical girl tilted her head a bit, guessing where she was heading. “Very much so. Caring for Amy was one of the things that brought us together in the original timeline.”

“Oho~,” Yoruichi crowed. “ _What if_ you had your very own pet black cat with an independent streak? One who takes a liking to your new classmate and _coincidentally_ distracts her from danger sometimes?”

Homura pensively looked down into her empty ice cream bowl. Cooperation would mean that she would be under constant observation herself as well, but a bodyguard for Madoka who the Incubator wouldn't suspect could be priceless. Actually... “Wouldn't the Incubator be able to sense your magic? ...Reiatsu?”

Kisuke distractedly waved his fan while scribbling ideas in a notebook, ice cream forgotten. “There are ways to conceal reiatsu.”

Homura looked up at them, then down again. So Yoruichi could also observe the Incubator's interactions with Madoka. There would also be the opportunity to ask questions about shinigami in private. “I... suppose... that would be a mutually beneficial arrangement,” she said carefully.

“Right, then,” Kisuke said decisively. “Yoruichi will go back to Mitakihara with you tomorrow. She'll do what she can as a cat without provoking suspicion. In the mean time, I will work with Karin and Yuzu to study the basics of the magical girl soul-state. Others--” he gestured around the table-- “will investigate other angles, such as studying disappearances and history in more depth. I will contact you by phone to ask questions or give updates. Is that satisfactory for now?”

Homura silently nodded her agreement.

“Now, before Ichigo and his friends go back to their condo--” Kisuke began.

Ichigo balked. “What?! I need to be with my sisters--!”

“No, you do not, Ichigo,” Kisuke said calmly. “We can monitor Karin and Yuzu now. Until we have more information, there's nothing you can do but perhaps assist with research. Which you can do via internet from your condo.” His expression softened at the frustration on Ichigo's face. “Once we know what to attack and how, we'll point you at it and let you go to town. Until then, cooperate so you don't jeopardize the entire investigation.”

Ichigo looked conflicted and furious, but reined himself in. He nodded, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

“Now, as I was saying,” Kisuke continued, “before you four leave I want Miss Inoue to repeat the experiment her future self did for me.”

Orihime started in surprise, then her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh! The purification?”

“Yes.” Kisuke placed two items on the table: the spent Grief Seed Homura had given him and the new Grief Seed they had just collected. Then he slid something that looked like a smart phone across the table to Karin. “If you would put your Soul Gem on here, please.” Karin dubiously complied and looked up for further instruction. He pushed the new Grief Seed to her. “I want you to purify your Soul Gem using the conventional method. Miss Inoue?”

“Yes!” Orihime chirped. She gestured at her hairpins. “Ayame, Shun'ō, come out and watch!”

Homura watched more closely this time as the two fairies split away from the older girl's hairpins with a flare of gold magic. It was difficult to make out what exactly they looked like even though she went so far as to lean over the table to watch them drift around the clouded ruby.

On Kisuke's signal, Karin tapped the new Grief Seed against her Soul Gem with a distinct clink. Everyone watched as darkness gathered and seeped out of the ruby like iron filings drawn to a magnet. Soon, the Soul Gem was a more brilliant red than it had been. Karin withdrew the Grief Seed, going still when the two fairies darted after her hand. She held the Grief Seed rigidly as the fairies flitted around and chattered, then swooped back to the Soul Gem. After a few cycles, they zoomed back to their mistress and fluttered around her head.

Orihime clapped delightedly. “They think they can do it!”

Kisuke looked at her intently. “Purify tainted Soul Gems, reverse the transformation from Grief Seed, or both?”

“Both!” the fairy mistress cheered.

Everyone made hopeful sounds as Karin returned the Grief Seed to Kisuke, who hummed and looked at it thoughtfully before putting it down. “Do they have any comments about the items?” he asked.

Orihime looked at her fairies expectantly. After some chattering and chiming, Orihime looked back to Kisuke and gave the same report her future self had. Kisuke steepled his fingers together. “Miss Inoue, would you mind testing your purification on Yuzu's Soul Gem?”

“Sure!”

Karin recalled her Soul Gem into ring form as her twin manifested her own Gem. Yuzu set the citrine on the smart phone sensor. Orihime held her hands out.

“Sōten Kisshun: I Reject!”

The two fairies floated on opposite sides of the Soul Gem. A translucent gold shield snapped into place over it. Black reishi drifted up and dissipated against the shield like smoke. In the span of two minutes, the Gem was perfectly purified. Many at the table sagged in relief.

The girls didn't have to rely on participation in the magical girl food chain to retain their souls.

Kisuke nodded in satisfaction. “Miss Inoue, are you tired?”

“Not at all!” she chirped. “That was simple.”

The scientist picked up the Pumpkin Witch's Grief Seed and rolled it around in his fingers, considering it. “Would you be willing to try to reverse the damage to this soul and return it to a Soul Gem state? Documentation from last time said you were able to do it, but it tired you.”

Face determined, Orihime said, “I can do it. I'll just sleep a lot tonight and tomorrow.”

Kisuke nodded seriously. He gestured for Orihime to take the smart phone device, which she did. He balanced the Grief Seed's spindle on its surface and made a gesture of invitation. “Whenever you're ready, Miss Inoue.”

Orihime took a deep, steadying breath, centered herself, and held her hands out. “Sōten Kisshun: I Reject!”

The same shield manifested again. Dark mist drifted upward and evaporated against the golden light. Ten minutes slipped by before the black stone shifted color to have muddy traces of orange. Sweat beaded on Orihime's temples as the gem progressed from opaque dark mahogany to mildly translucent rust. It gained more clarity, shifting to a cloudy carnelian before amber light blossomed from the crown of the Grief Seed and flowed downward around the silver spindle like flower petals. There was a pulse of energy as the hollow space filled with orange reishi. The silver, pumpkin-shaped decoration atop the Grief Seed shimmered and filled out with orange light, the metal shifting from silver to gold. Gold settings burst out and wrapped down the egg-shaped fire opal, met at the bottom, and filled out along the bottom to form a golden cup. After one last pulse of light, Orihime's fairies disengaged their shield and wobbled back to their tired mistress. Chad and Uryū held Orihime's shoulders to steady her as she swayed and blinked.

“Orihime, are you--?” Ichigo cried.

Orihime laughed weakly and waved her hands, blushing. “I'll be fine, Ichigo, really! Ahaha, that was a workout!”

Ichigo looked unconvinced, but bit his tongue.

“My, my,” Kisuke murmured wondrously. He had lifted the new Soul Gem. He tilted it this way and that, examining the unique filigree and admiring the shifting colors of the fire opal.

“It looks like the embers that were in the lanterns,” Tōshirō said quietly.

The scientist hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder what would happen if I put this in the hand of a new gigai?”

“ _Don't_ ,” barked Karin.

Kisuke started in surprise. He looked at her. “Why not?”

Karin grit her teeth. “That's a soul. A person. If the other me remembered... and it drove me... drove me....” She swallowed hard. “Just don't.” Isshin wrapped his arm around her back to soothe her.

Kisuke's face fell into blank seriousness. “I understand.” He quietly put the orange Soul Gem in an isolation jar like the one containing the Grief Seed Homura had brought with her. The silence drew out to awkward lengths. Kisuke sighed. “Well. I think that's all I need you all for at the moment. Captain Hitsugaya, please return on... let's say Wednesday. I'll give you a list of things to look up in the Great Spirit Library. In the mean time, advise the Captain-Commander you may need the highest security clearance.” The shinigami nodded curtly. “Ichigo and company, please come home next weekend for further discussion. I will email you assignments for during the week. Except for you, Mr. Ishida. You focus on your Quincy history research.” The older teens all nodded. “Karin, Yuzu, you will go back to school. If you encounter any Familiars or Witches, please call me for backup. I would also like you to be on call for experiments in the afternoons.” At some suspicious looks, he clarified, “Ah, I mean seeing if you can do certain tasks with your 'magic', seeing if you can differentiate how certain things feel, seeing if there is a difference in your perception with and without your transformations active, demonstrating your version of Soul Burial, simple stuff like that.” Everyone settled down again. Kisuke turned to the time traveler. “Miss Akemi, you should leave on the same train as Ichigo and his friends in the morning. I will make arrangements for Yoruichi overnight. You'll carry her with you on the train.” Homura nodded.

Kisuke looked around the table appraisingly. “I think we're done here--”

“No,” Tōshirō objected. “There is a question Captain-Commander Yamamoto posed. I think it should be addressed while we're all together.”

Everyone tensed. “Go on,” Kisuke said cautiously.

Tōshirō took a deep breath. “How did the Incubator know about the process to create a King's Key? Even the _possibility_ of forging one at all is highly classified information. The captains and lieutenants were only told when intel indicated it was Aizen's goal. The rank and file were told Aizen saw capturing the jūreichi as the step between conquering Hueco Mundo and Soul Society.”

Everyone looked flummoxed. Kisuke scratched his chin in fascination. “That is an excellent question.”

“Uh.”

All eyes turned to Karin, who was giving Yuzu a look of dread. “You have an idea, Karin?” her father asked gruffly.

Karin squirmed and winced. “It's... it's really classified information?”

Tōshirō frowned. “Yes. Otherwise there could be more attempts to conquer Karakura and breach the King's Realm.”

“...Shit.”

Yuzu didn't object to Karin's language, face pale.

“What did you do.” Tōshirō's flat words weren't even a question.

“Back before we contracted, when we didn't know Kyub-- the Incubator was a soul-sucking _bastard_ , we tried to convince him to contact shinigami because they were nicer since the war. And he-- it-- asked why a shinigami would want to conquer a human city. And I told him. It.”

Everyone stared in silence until Tōshirō snapped, “Dammit, Karin!”

“I didn't know it was a secret, okay?!”

“How do _you_ even know about it? I know _I_ was purposely vague about it when we talked.”

Both twins looked at their brother.

Ichigo thought back. “...Shit.”

Tōshirō gestured angrily, but could produce no words. Instead, he dropped his face in his hands and forced himself to breathe evenly.

Ichigo flailed his arms in front of him in denial. “I didn't know it was a secret, okay?! No one told me it was a secret!”

“Have you heard of _common sense?_ ”

Ichigo squawked incoherently, mortified.

“He doesn't have military training, Captain Hitsugaya,” Yoruichi said with a sigh. “None of them do. They're teenagers. They're just such competent fighters and blend in so well with shinigami officers on and off the battlefield that it can slip the mind that they're just teenagers. Really, that's an oversight on our part. We should have sat them all down and discussed operations security afterward.” She huffed, glanced aside, and muttered, “Soifon will be insufferable if she finds out.”

Tōshirō inhaled deeply and looked heavenward for patience. “Has _anyone else_ been told this _top secret information?_ ”

“Ummm.” Everyone looked to Orihime. She made a weak, guilty giggle. “I told Tatsuki and Chizuru.”

“I told Keigo and Mizuiro,” Chad said quietly.

“They were conscious when Aizen attacked, and actually encountered him, so I thought they deserved to know why... why that happened,” Orihime explained softly. “I'm sorry.”

Tōshirō sighed and massaged his closed eyes with one hand. “Just... just tell them not to tell anyone else. God, Yamamoto will be _pissed_.”

“Blame me,” Kisuke said soberly. “I'm nominally in charge of monitoring and administration of the locals with powers. The fault lies with me.” After another long silence, Kisuke asked, “Are there any more questions?”

“Yeah,” Jinta said. He leaned on his elbows. “Maybe it's dumb, but have you three even told us what this Incuthingy looks like? So we can, like, kick its ass or catch it or something? You said it has a bunch of identical bodies but did you say what they look like?”

Consternation was plastered all over Kisuke's face. Yoruichi grimaced.

“Ha, I thought so,” Jinta droned. “You're doing too many things at once and forgetting stupid shit, old ma--” He stopped with a shudder when Tessai heavily dropped a hand on his shoulder from behind, his reiatsu menacing.

“That's easy,” Karin said with a casual wave. “The Incubator looks like a drunk artist tried to draw a white cat with a fluffy tail dressed up as a rabbit with pink mittens and little gold hula hoops on its ears. Oh, and it has a red... egg-shaped? ...ring on its back that opens up like a trap door to eat Grief Seeds.”

Brains ground to a halt as they tried to picture it and figure out if she was joking at the same time. Unanimously, all turned to Homura, who they knew had zero humor about anything regarding the Incubator.

Homura's mouth was opening and closing, face confused. She raised a hand, lowered it, raised her finger, lowered it to her chest, and frowned uncertainly. “I... actually... can't disagree with that?”

Karin pantomimed a mic drop and said “ _boom_ ” in the incredulous silence that followed.

§ x § x §

After telling the girls to _draw what they meant, for heaven's sake_ , the Urahara Shop crew sat and watched their guests drift away-- Tōshirō to Soul Society, Uryū to his house to do research and pack up books, and everyone else to the Kurosaki home. They were silent for a time. Then Tessai took off his glasses and handed them to Kisuke.

Kisuke accepted them and tucked them into a pocket. “You got clear shots of her when she was stopping time?”

Tessai nodded and took his real glasses out of a pocket. “Yes,” he said as he donned them.

“Excellent,” Kisuke murmured. “Your thoughts?”

“It felt far more complex than Jikanteishi. Extremely powerful, but equally subtle.” Tessai frowned. “Jikanteishi is limited in comparison, but one facet of its being forbidden is that only the most experienced of shinigami can control it or maintain it for any amount of time without draining all their power and possibly falling into a coma. It requires extreme focus and mental discipline. The way she uses this more refined and extensive technique so casually, with such little effort-- not even an incantation-- it's actually disturbing. _Very_ disturbing.”

“What a terrifying child,” Kisuke mused quietly. He stared down speculatively at three different sketches of the same creature.

Peering over his shoulder, Tessai said, “It looks like an anime magical girl mascot.”

Yoruichi lounged back on her elbows. “Which came first: The chicken or the egg?”

Both men looked up at her in question. She rolled her eyes. “Do you think one of the early creators of magical girl manga and anime was or knew of a magical girl and used them as inspiration? Then others took the idea and ran with it?”

The men stared. Kisuke looked fascinated. “That could be _fun_ to research once this mess is over.”

Yoruichi rolled her eyes again, this time in fond amusement. “Whatever. You need me to do anything overnight?”

“Hmm.” Kisuke tapped the papers into a neat stack and put them in his box of miscellaneous notebooks and sensors. “I'll give you all the intel on the Mitakihara metropolitan area. Study that. Stay up all night if you have to. You should avoid acting like more than a cat once you're in hostile territory and you'll have a four-hour train ride to catnap on in the morning.”

Yoruichi snorted and threw a lazy salute.

“Jinta. Ururu.”

The redheaded boy looked wary. “What?”

“Take some money out of the shop's register and go buy a pet crate and supplies for a cat,” Kisuke ordered. “And get a few of those breakaway collars designed to pop open if a cat gets caught on something. I want to modify them.”

“Don't scrimp,” Yoruichi drawled.

Kisuke's lips twitched. “Only the finest for the Kitty Princess, of course.”

Yoruichi made a snobby pose, nose turned up. “Of course. I'm not your average alley cat.”

“Um,” Ururu said with a little wave. “It's almost midnight. No pet stores are open.”

Kisuke swiveled to look at a clock. “Huh. So it is.” He shrugged. “Break in, I guess.”

Ururu looked worried and Jinta looked doubtful. Tessai cut off their objections with a calm, “I'll do it.”

“Good,” Kisuke said decisively. He slapped his closed fan into his open palm. “Everyone go do whatever. I have a lot to do before morning.”

§ x § x §

An hour later, Kisuke finally had some quiet time-- he had assembled the information for Yoruichi, given it to her as Tessai brought him the purloined cat collars, and the task he set for himself was time-consuming but simple. It allowed his mind to wander as he worked. The subject that dominated his thoughts was one Homura Akemi.

The girl seemed to have little appreciation for just how godlike her power was. Such power, borne by a girl who made an innocent wish to protect and had the strength of will to shoulder the resultant burden. He was endlessly thankful that such an ability hadn't been gifted to a megalomaniac like Aizen-- shuddered to think of what the traitor would have done with it.

Shuddered to think what Akemi could do with it if anything aside from the Incubator drew her ire.

Having spoken briefly with Captain Hitsugaya before the boy left, Kisuke thought the Captain-Commander was wise to be so cautious about the girl and her power. If she ever lost sight of her target, or, heaven forbid, her grip on sanity, there was no telling what she could do.

Akemi had a spine of steel as strong as those of the great warriors he knew. But even steel could bend under intense pressure. Even steel could become brittle in harsh conditions. Kisuke's and Isshin's accounts from the previous timeline were strong indicators of such. Her handful of breakdowns was worrying, to say the least. If she had been repeating heartbreaking tragedies for many dozens of timelines, it was honestly a miracle that she hadn't completely snapped already. Consistent Soul Gem purification probably had something to do with that, but didn't account for all of it from what he could tell. No; it was like her sheer, stubborn devotion to Madoka Kaname reinforced her on many levels, poured glue in her cracks. And she _was_ cracking, if the accounts from the previous timeline were accurate. It was very subtle in this timeline. Isshin was probably the one who saw it most keenly. The Kurosaki patriarch had texted him about their conversation in the wee hours; Kisuke had heard their quiet exchange after the Witch hunt. Isshin was doing a good job of gently tethering her to the buoyant Kurosaki family with genuine kindness and he hoped the progress continued, but he worried for the girl's mental state. The repeated denial of self-worth was troubling. Among other things. Like the way her reiatsu was often thick with melancholy. He couldn't fault her for any of it, given the circumstances, but dire consequences _had to_ be avoided.

So. The girl hadn't snapped _yet_... and he needed to make sure she _wouldn't ever_.

She was their ace in the hole-- their last resort reset button to recover from failure to hold the Incubator in check. So even though there were several huge threats to evaluate, Kisuke's number one concern had to be the continued sanity and survival of Homura Akemi.

...Their reset button. Hmm. One of those would be useful if the girl could persevere.

If they could keep her sane and focused.

If they could give her new hope to bleach out the despair that clung to her like stains that could never be completely washed away.

An idea began to coalesce in his mind.

§ x § x §

Karin and Yuzu hustled Homura up to their room when they got home. After changing for bed, Yuzu walked up to Homura and took her hands in her own. She looked at her fellow magical girl with a stubborn cast to her features. “You are taking our phone numbers and are going to call or text us when you need to talk,” she said firmly. Homura tried to object, but Yuzu squeezed her hands harder and looked fierce. “Yes, you are. You're not alone anymore. We won't _let_ you be alone anymore.”

“You don't understand,” Homura protested unhappily as she wrested her hands out of Yuzu's. Her voice rose in distress as she spoke. “If everything goes wrong, if I go back in time again, you won't know me. You won't remember me. But I will remember you. Do you have any idea what that's _like?_ ”

The sisters looked sympathetic, but Karin's face went stubborn, too. “That's why we're going to start writing our own notebooks for you tomorrow. You're our friend now. And Goat Face already dotes on you.” She rolled her eyes as Homura sputtered a denial. “You're stuck with us, Homura. Make it easier on all of us and accept it.”

“We promise to be your friends in any timeline,” Yuzu affirmed, her serious eyes boring into Homura's. “And Kurosakis don't break promises.”

“You _won't remember_ ,” Homura objected. She would not cry. Would _not_.

Karin scoffed. “If Goat Face could pick up where the other him left off because of a diary, so can we.”

“Don't underestimate a Kurosaki,” Yuzu said with a wink. “We've only known one another few days, but we want to know you better. We admire you. You're so dedicated to your friend that you willingly endure all of this. We'd love to be friends with a person who can love a friend that much.”

“And you're capable of messing with Urahara and inflicting mini heart attacks with your badassery,” Karin added with a lopsided smirk. “You're our kinda person.”

Silent tears rolled down Homura's cheeks. She didn't trust herself to speak. Yuzu smiled and took her hands again. “Karin, get the pillows and blankets down on the floor. We're having a sleepover. Just the three of us.” Karin hurried to comply as Yuzu tugged Homura toward the futon on the middle of the room. Yuzu's smile went very gentle. “Would you like to tell us about Madoka? She must be an amazing friend.”

Homura looked surprised, then slowly nodded. “I... I'd like that,” she whispered.

§ x § x §

Monday morning was chaotic in the Kurosaki household. Homura jolted awake to the sound of a shout and a window slamming in the next room over. Karin had sleepily grabbed her to keep her down, mumbling about idiotic morning rituals. Way too many teenagers struggled to use the only bathroom to get ready for the day. Chad disappeared after receiving a text-- Uryū wanted his help carrying books. Yuzu's rule of the kitchen was ironclad as she aggressively cooked breakfast and fended off assistance and food-thieves alike. Ichigo was bickering with Isshin, who was obviously just messing with his son for Homura's wide-eyed if uncertain entertainment while Karin drowsily ignored them to drink juice. It was loud, unruly, overwhelming... warm. Inviting. Close.

Homura liked it. Didn't want to leave it.

Felt guilty that she didn't want to leave it for the lonely stillness of her townhouse.

She didn't have much opportunity to dwell on it, though, as Kisuke and Tessai soon descended on the clinic. Kisuke popped out from behind the door jamb, waving his arm at them all, fan in hand. “Good morning, good morning, good morning~” he sang.

“Good morning, Mr. Urahara!” Orihime chirped sleepily.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Ichigo muttered.

Kisuke ignored him. He zeroed in on Homura with a gleeful grin. She froze, wary.

“Miss Akemi! I brought you a going away present! To keep you company back home~!” He waved behind him. Tessai stepped forward with a pet crate and held it up high. Kisuke made a show of emphasizing the crate with wide sweeps of his arms and fan, smiling as though displaying a prize on a game show. “One _perfectly normal_ if _very spoiled_ pet kitty-cat! Don't worry, I crate-trained her myself! You're on your own with the litter box, though, ahahahaha!”

Amber eyes glowed in the crate. A clawed limb darted out and drew blood on his ear as the cat within snagged his hat with a hiss.

“Awww, _rude_ kitty,” Kisuke pouted as he struggled to retrieve his hat.

Homura stared. Tilted her head. Frowned. “I don't sense Ms. Yoruichi at all. How?”

“Science!” Kisuke straightened and replaced his hat on his head, smiling madly despite the red scratches on his cheek. “One of my earlier inventions was a reiatsu-concealing cloak. I simply replaced the material from some cat collars with this material. Voilà! Just your average pet. _Except not._ ” He pressed his fingers together deviously.

“We brought supplies for you,” Tessai added more calmly as he lowered the crate and held up a couple shopping bags. “To make the ruse more believable.”

Homura manifested her shield and tucked the supplies into it as everyone else scrambled to gather their things. Tessai met her eyes and nodded seriously at her. She returned the nod. A hand stopped her before she could step toward the foyer. Homura looked back and up.

Isshin had approached from behind. His face was conflicted and concerned. He squeezed her shoulder. “You take good care of yourself. If you need anything-- I mean _anything_ \-- you give me a call, all right?” Homura tilted her head silently and gauged him with quiet surprise before nodding once in hesitant acceptance. Isshin breathed deeply and acknowledged it was probably the most reply he would get. He smiled and patted her shoulder, stepping back after saying, “It has been an honor to meet you-- to get to know you, Homura. You're a very strong young woman.” His last words seemed to perplex her. It made Isshin clench his jaw. He did not like her apparent opinion of herself.

The teenagers tumbled out into the streets of Karakura. Homura's parting with the twins where they split off to go to their school was tearful. Homura and Karin managed to limit themselves to watery eyes, but Yuzu outright bawled and threw her arms around her new friend.

“I'll miss you! Come visit! Keep in touch! _I'll send you cookies!_ ”

Homura, Ichigo, and Orihime met Uryū and Chad at the train station. Each had the overnight bags they brought with them and several large canvas bags of books. Uryū looked exhausted and disturbed, but his fingertips and eyes twitched toward the books every few minutes as though eager to continue his research. They all boarded a northbound train together, irritating office commuters with the expanse of their books, bags, and Yoruichi's pet crate. Any complaints were rebuffed by apathy and sleepiness.

They had been traveling for about forty minutes when Ichigo shifted uncomfortably, then managed to find words. He looked at the magical girl across the pet crate between them and seriously said, “Homura.” When the girl looked up at him, he bit his lip and looked concerned. “I know you have my number. I want you to call me if you run into something you can't handle.”

Homura stared at him, nonplussed. “You'll be a few hours away,” she hedged.

“I have ways of traveling quickly,” the redhead said with a dismissive wave. “In an emergency, I can even call Tōshirō and he can bust through a senkaimon wherever you are to give you backup. He'll do it. He's a good guy.” A loud meow issued from the pet crate. “If Yoruichi doesn't beat everyone to it, I guess.” He breathed deeply. “You can still call me if you need help, or... or if you want to talk or something.” Ichigo scratched his neck, a bit embarrassed. “I dunno if I'll really be able to help you, but I can always listen, yeah? Or if you just need someone to talk about something to distract you, I can talk about some of the stuff I've done, or tell you about people I know... or give the phone to Orihime. She might be better at that. Oh, and if any of the others gets to be too much for you, call or text me and I'll handle it.” Ichigo smiled ruefully. “We can be a pretty... _overwhelming_ bunch, I guess. But we all mean well.”

Homura followed his affectionate glance at his friends across the aisle. Orihime was slumped on one side of Chad, drooling on him in her sleep. Uryū had his bags of books on and under him like a dragon's hoard, eyes sharp as he glared people into not touching his dusty treasure. Chad was a peaceful rock between them, immune to drool and glares, calmly nudging them both into preparing for their stop.

After a minute of thought, Homura softly said, “All right.”

Ichigo looked surprised for a moment but beamed like sunshine. He ruffled her hair with a grin as the train slowed. “Great. Remember: You aren't alone anymore. Never again. We'll win this-- _together_.”

Homura nodded slowly. “...Yes.” Whispered carefully as though afraid to express any kind of optimism too loudly lest it be crushed.

Ichigo's face softened sadly, but he didn't comment. The train slowed more drastically as it entered a station. He swung his bag over his shoulder and stood. He faced her with his arms crossed sternly. “Now, you stay safe as you can. Don't take stupid risks.”

Uryū scoffed loudly as he gathered up his books. “Hypocrite.”

Ichigo ignored him. “Take care of yourself. Eat real food. Get real sleep. Help your friends. _Be_ a friend. You have some time while Urahara figures out the big picture. Use it. Got it?”

Homura looked uncertain, but her face firmed and she nodded her head.

Ichigo's grin widened proudly. As the doors hissed open, he darted forward and tweaked her nose then scooted for the exit while she was still squawking over the surprise. “See you soon, Stopwatch!” And then he and his friends were lost in the rush of people.

In the loudness of commuters getting on and off, she heard Yoruichi's voice quietly sing, “Someone~ has~ a nick~ name~”

Homura stared at the closed door in stunned silence until the next stop. For the first time, she wondered if this was what it felt like to have a brother.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *pinches Homura's cheeks*  
> Mitakihara, here we come! *fistpump*


	43. ZWEIUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Helloooooooo. Thanks for the great reviews again! They're really motivational.
> 
> Well, here's hoping the Mitakihara crew cooperates with me hahaha

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ZWEIUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Running and breathing, running and breathing. Again. Tap-tap-tap-tap shoes on the tile, black and white, black and white. Again, running and breathing. Spinning black and white. How many times had she done this? Running and breathing. Climbing stairs and breathing, black and white, spinning, opening a door and breathing, _way too high_ and breathing, _buildings aren't supposed to float in pieces like that_ and breathing, _that girl is being tossed around like a rag doll_ and breathing, _have to help her_ and breathing, _in a concert hall_ and breathing, _confined_ and breathing, _too tight_ NOT breathing, crunch-crunch _not breathing_ , oh God, she should have listened to--

Madoka Kaname woke suddenly, gasping for breath as though surfacing from a deep dive. She lay still for a minute, panting and disliking the feel of cold sweat on her brow as she blearily held her over-sized stuffed bunny close. When her breathing calmed, she dragged herself upright and squinted at the sunshine peeking in her window, drowsily listened to the birds chirping.

Such weird dreams the last few days. It wasn't like her to dream of....

Of.......?

Madoka wilted and flopped on her bunny, then rolled on her side again. “I forget,” she moaned in disappointment.

§ x § x §

As usual, Papa was picking delicious things from the garden to use for breakfast. As usual, little Tatsuya was doing his cheerful best to wake Mama from her morning coma with the few words he knew. As usual, Madoka slammed the door open, marched over to the window, threw the curtains wide to let the sun in, and stomped over to the bed to gleefully whip the duvet off her mother. As usual, Mama screeched and flailed like a vampire exposed to sunlight, much to her toddler's delight. As usual, Madoka gossiped with her mother while they both brushed their teeth and did their hair for the day. As usual, her mother's transformation from death warmed over to classy businesswoman with skillful use of brushes and powders and lipstick was a wonder to witness. As usual, Papa smilingly served breakfast to them all in his apron, Tatsuya got about half his food into his mouth and half of it everywhere else, and Mama rushed out after goodbye kisses for her boys and her customary high-five of encouragement with her daughter.

As usual, as usual. But the usual felt _unusual_ for Madoka these last few days. She couldn't figure out why. It was bothersome.

School was more of the usual. Meeting up with Sayaka and Hitomi, Ms. Saotome ranting about her newly-former-boyfriend in homeroom, classes, lunch, classes. It was all very normal, but the sheer normalcy felt wrong somehow. Like something was missing. The closest feeling she could think of was realizing you have left your homework at home or have forgotten to read the assignment so you don't know what the teacher is talking about, but that somehow seemed too trivial. So Madoka tucked her unease as far from notice as possible and kept smiling.

Near the end of the final class of the day, one of her classmates suddenly rose from her chair and lurched for the door with her hand over her mouth. Everyone stared at her running away for a minute, surprised.

“Ah, the Nurse's Aide for this class is Miss... Kaname, yes?” the math teacher said when he snapped out of it. He found Madoka already standing, her pink pigtails bouncing as she threw her things in her bag. “Good, good. Take care of her, Miss Kaname. Don't worry about coming back to class.”

“Okay!” she called as she scooped up her classmate's things.

“Uh, Madoka--,” Sayaka said lowly as she leaned over from her own desk, face uncertain.

Madoka smiled, winked at her friend, and whispered, “Go ahead and see him without me, okay?” She was halfway out the door before her blue-haired friend could even sputter a reply.

Madoka dutifully helped her crying classmate clean up in the bathroom and leaned against her stall door while they waited for the halls to clear after the final bell. The poor girl was terrified she'd throw up on someone if they tried to break for the nurse's office when the halls were full. Madoka sympathized and rambled on cheerfully to try to distract her through her dry heaving. She let the girl hold her arm to stay steady for the walk and sat with her until someone came to help her home.

The halls were quite empty by the time Madoka left. The uncommon quiet of the building was interesting, so she meandered a bit. She was about to go out a side door when it opened and admitted a girl with long, dark hair. The girl stopped and looked around. Their eyes met.

“Excuse me,” the stranger said. “Do you know where the registrar's office is?”

Madoka's eyes widened for an instant-- _brave girl jumping from the building flying up at the_ \-- then her face scrunched up in confused déjà vu. “The... office...?”

“Yes, please.” The girl primly pushed her hair behind her ears. She looked uncomfortable, but still cool. “I'm transferring in tomorrow and need to pick up my schedule.”

Madoka blinked and processed that, then perked up. “Oh! Welcome to Mitakihara Middle School!”

“Thank you.”

The pink-haired girl made a beckoning gesture. “The office is this way! I'll take you!”

“Thank you.”

The new girl followed a few steps behind Madoka, who stepped aside and fell back to be at her side instead.

“I'm Madoka Kaname!”

The new girl tilted her head and looked at her sideways. She seemed kind of sad. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Kana--”

“You can call me Madoka!” She waved her fingers cheerfully.

“A-ah,” the new girl said quietly. “Mado... ka. My name is Homura Akemi.”

“Ooh, what an unusual name!” After a pause in which she actually thought about the words that had fallen from her lips, Madoka flailed her arms in denial and hurried to correct herself. “Not in a bad way! Not a _bad_ unusual! It's just uncommon and it sounds so cool! Can I call you Homura instead of Akemi?”

The new student walked without speaking for an entire hallway as Madoka began to sweat nervously and debate apologizing. Finally, Homura murmured, “I don't get called by my first name very much. It's such a weird name....” She sounded... distant. Wistful, maybe?

“Ehhh?!” Madoka halted and whirled to face the new girl, face enthusiastic in the fading sunlight. “No, it's not! It means _flame_ , so it's like you're supposed to flare up passionately!” She made excited hand gestures and gazed into the distance with stars in her eyes, plainly imagining something dramatic.

Homura brushed past and stopped a few paces ahead of her but didn't turn back to face her. Instead, she stood still and flexed her hands into and out of fists. She didn't say anything at first, then nearly whispered, “I guess... I don't live up to my name.”

Madoka's face fell in dismay. “But that's such a waste!” She scowled in determination and marched up to and around Homura, then clasped the girl's hands in her own. Madoka stared directly into her eyes and firmly declared, “Since you were blessed with such a great name, you should become cool to match it!” After a moment's thought-- _brave girl jumping_ \-- she doubled down. “No, I bet you're _already_ cool! I'll prove it!”

Homura stared at her expressionlessly, hands limp in Madoka's grip. Madoka flushed and dropped her hands, twirling away with an embarrassed laugh and starting to walk again. “Come on! Let's find out what class you're in!” Once she started babbling, she couldn't stop-- she had to fill the awkward silence. “I hope you're in mine. Even if you aren't, I'll introduce you to Sayaka and Hitomi. We'll have lots of fun together! And I'll help you catch up with the class if you need it!” She stopped at the next corner and looked back. Homura was standing where she left her halfway down the hall. Madoka nervously scratched her cheek. “Did I weird you out? I probably shouldn't--”

The new girl stepped forward decisively. “No,” she said calmly. When she was even with Madoka, she looked her right in the eyes. A certain sternness firmed her brow, turned her lips down at the corners. “Please stay just as you are.” Then she brushed past her and kept walking.

“E-eh?” Madoka stood dumbly watching the girl gracefully stride down the hall and make the next turn.

Correctly.

Wait, she was supposed to be guiding her!

“Wait up!” she cried, jogging after the transfer student. Madoka was half surprised to find that Homura actually had stopped, her head tilted slightly to look over her shoulder. Madoka fidgeted timidly, then rejoined her.

The rest of their walk was silent. Madoka wrung her hands all through it, feeling shy. She was going to excuse herself once they reached the office, but Homura had quietly asked her to wait a minute and invited her out to get a snack together to thank her for her help. Madoka perked up and cheerfully agreed-- she hadn't driven off a prospective friend by being too forward after all! Still, she had no idea what to talk about as they left through the school's courtyard and walked along the landscaped footpath off campus.

Until she heard a loud meow, that is.

“Ah,” Homura said quietly, looking off to their left. “Yoruichi followed me.”

Madoka followed her line of sight and saw a black cat wearing a purple collar perched in a tree. It meowed again.

“I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?” Homura murmured. “Always following people and getting into things.” The cat meowed, gracefully dropped from the tree and sauntered up to them. It meowed and rubbed against Homura's legs. Homura sighed and knelt down. She scratched the cat's chin and said, “Yes, I forgive you.”

“Is that your cat?” Madoka blurted out excitedly. She clasped her hands by one cheek and cooed, “He's so pretty!”

“She,” Homura corrected. “And thank you.”

“She?” Madoka knelt across from Homura and tentatively offered a hand for the cat to sniff. “I'm so sorry, Miss Kitty! You're a very pretty kitty-cat!”

The cat meowed and preened, then shrugged away from Homura and pressed her head into Madoka's palm. Madoka pet her with surprised delight.

“She knows what pretty means,” Homura said drily.

“Well, of course! Everyone must tell her she's a pretty kitty!” Madoka didn't care if cats reduced her to a five-year-old. They were cats. So cute! “What's her name again?”

“Yoruichi.”

The cat meowed at its name.

“Hello, Yoruichi! I'm Madoka! Let's be friends!”

The cat purred and jumped up onto her, scaling her way up to Madoka's shoulder. She purred and rubbed against the girl's jaw.

Madoka laughed joyfully. She looked at Homura. “What kanji did you use for her name?”

Homura smiled slightly. “Night One.”

Madoka grinned and looked at Yoruichi, whose head was inches away from her cheek. “Your owner has a cool name and she gave you a cool name, too!” Yoruichi's apparent meowed reply made her giggle.

“She likes you.” Homura stood up, smiling gently. “If we go to an outdoor café, Yoruichi can sit with us.”

“Yes! Let's do it!” Madoka carefully held Yoruichi in place on her shoulder and stood happily. “I know just the place!”

§ x § x §

Beady red eyes watched intently from the shadows, then retreated into the shrubbery.

Not today, it seemed.

§ x § x §

Two in the morning found Homura working intently at her desk. Yoruichi had accompanied her on another munitions heist. _That_ had been informative on many levels. The feline shinigami was perched on a high shelf, tail lazily swishing as she watched the girl engaged in the dangerous business of crafting bombs. Long familiar with the etiquette of potentially explosive materials and experiments from her years with Kisuke Urahara and Kukaku Shiba as friends, she patiently stayed silent. She only dared speak whenever Homura sat back after completing a task, not wanting to interrupt her and blow them both into the stratosphere.

During one such pause, Homura arched her back and stretched her arms over her head. Holding herself tense for such delicate work took its toll. She sighed, manifested her shield, stowed the new bomb away where it wouldn't be a threat, and relaxed.

“You'd fit right in with the Shiba,” Yoruichi said slyly. “You're very skilled.”

Homura blinked, rubbed her eyes tiredly, and looked at the cat. “Shiba?”

“Isshin's family back in Soul Society,” the cat explained. “They mostly make fireworks, but they do other explosives, too.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” Homura started to gather the materials to make one last, different bomb before bed. “I don't think Karin mentioned fireworks last time. She just said they are known for 'brash eccentricity and explosions'.”

Yoruichi cackled so hard she nearly fell from her shelf. Homura eyed her warily. The cat wheezed, breathed deeply, and broke out in laughter again. “Ah, I've never heard the Shibas described so perfectly in so few words! Karin is priceless!”

Homura returned to her supplies, organizing them as Yoruichi chuckled and muttered about telling someone named Kūkaku. When the cat had downgraded into an occasional snicker, Homura continued, “I don't see why I should fit in with this Shiba family. Millions of people deal with explosives. Are they all Shibas?”

“It's the attitude,” Yoruichi immediately replied. “You have the bluntly-unapologetic-about-protecting-your-friends-and-throwing-explosions-at-problems attitude.”

“I'm not brash,” Homura argued.

Yoruichi scoffed. “Oh, I dunno. I think you have your moments. It's a subtle, understated brashness, but it's there. You do what you want and take no bullshit. You cover it up with good manners, but you'll be damned if anyone stops you from burgling military bases to collect and make your toys, or from charging off on your own to protect that Madoka girl. You're obstinate in general.”

Homura turned and gave her a dirty look.

“See?” Yoruichi gloated. “You're not hotheaded Ichigo-brash. You're Karin-and-Yuzu-brash. You decide to do a thing and you will do it come hell or high water. If people resist you, you just ignore them til they forget to resist you because you weren't loud and angry. You have no problems using military grade weaponry to destroy your obstacles.” Yoruichi approximated a smile, baring her canines. “You're quiet-brash. Sneaky-brash. Determined-brash. It can be infuriating in some people, but I usually like it. Keeps things interesting. Shows you're not a pushover.”

Homura sniffed and refused to look at her.

Yoruichi lazed back against the wall. “You didn't argue the eccentricity.”

“Hmph. I was strange even before all this mess,” the magical girl said frankly. “Now I'm a time-traveling magical girl who steals artillery, makes bombs, and is courting shinigami as allies. There's no point arguing the obvious.”

Yoruichi lost herself in laughter again. “You're _precious_.”

The corner of Homura's mouth quirked up into a wry smirk for a moment. Then she set about making her final bomb for the night. Yoruichi prudently fell silent to watch her. When the bomb was complete and safely stored, Homura methodically closed up all her supplies.

Yoruichi took it as a signal that it was safe to talk. “So, what's the plan for handling the girls tomorrow?”

Homura hummed thoughtfully as she screwed the lid on a shatter-proof jar of ammonium nitrate. “I think my biggest mistake the last several times was distancing myself from and alienating Sayaka Miki. Aside from Madoka, Miki, and Tomoe first seeing me as a magical girl when I was attacking the Incubator, that is. That caused them all to be suspicious of me. So I think I'll make more of an effort with Miki. She hated me last time.” A pause for thought. “Not without reason.”

“Why did you distance yourself from Miki?”

Homura frowned as she carefully lay the jar in a hard, foam-lined case with several others. “I... thought it would be less... frustrating,” she admitted quietly as she snapped the case shut. Yoruichi suspected she had changed her mind about what word to use to describe the feeling she wanted to avoid. “She has a tendency to run off and get herself killed in one way or another no matter what I do. Unlike Madoka, she doesn't listen to me much.”

Yoruichi was quiet for a minute, thinking about that, then prompted, “Oh? Do you know why not?”

Sighing deeply, the magical girl explained, “She is exceedingly stubborn and has an excessively ideal concept of justice. It leaves her vulnerable to becoming disillusioned by the magical girl dynamic rather quickly and to overexerting herself and her magic. It often causes her to alienate herself from those she considers as not living up to her ideal of a magical girl. Then she feels isolated, compounded by feeling unworthy of the boy she makes a wish to heal.” Homura scowled. Her voice turned bitter. “That boy is also completely oblivious to her affection for him. And Hitomi Shizuki sometimes pushes Miki to a breaking point by giving her an ultimatum to confess to him before _she_ does. In any other situation, it would be a kindness-- Shizuki respects Miki enough to not make a move on Kamijō without telling her because she knows how much Miki likes him. But it's usually... the straw that breaks Miki's back, I suppose.”

“Ah, schoolgirl drama,” Yoruichi mused. “ _So_ glad I avoided that by having private tutors.”

Homura huffed as she stowed the case of explosive material in her shield. “I had a rude awakening toward that,” she said. “Because of my heart condition and the way I was treated in my first two years, I had private tutors for most of primary school. Then my uncle shoved me into a Catholic school in Tokyo when my parents died. It was a... culture shock. I've learned to ignore it now.”

Well, wasn't that heartwarming. Flames were warm, right? “I feel like it needs to be said: Your uncle is a selfish asshole.”

The magical girl hummed noncommittally as she stored her measuring cups and scoops.

“Anyway. Back to Miki,” Yoruichi continued. “I take it her Witching out last timeline wasn't a fluke?”

“No. She either dies or falls in every timeline in which she contracts. Which is almost every timeline.”

“Hmm.” Yoruichi stretched and jumped down to the floor. “What have you tried to prevent that?”

Homura sighed. “Explaining that magical girls become Witches. She didn't believe me. Explaining how the Incubator uses us. She didn't believe me. Trying to convince her that trading her soul for that boy's stupid hand isn't worth it. She became defiant. Giving her Grief Seeds when she exhausts herself fighting Familiars. She refuses them out of stupid pride. Keeping Shizuki from confronting Miki about Kamijō. She still hated herself because she thought of herself as a puppet or zombie because of the Soul Gem mechanics. Sometimes it works out if Shizuki does it a certain way, but then instead of turning into a Witch, Sayaka ends up dead. If by some miracle she makes it to Walpurgisnacht, she's only really good against the Familiars. Her magic is... average. She's mostly a mêlée brawler with her cutlasses and that doesn't work well against something as big as Walpurgisnacht.” Her frustration was plain.

“I see,” Yoruichi said as she approached and jumped onto the empty desk. She curled up in the middle of it and looked up at Homura. “The boy's hand?”

“He's a violin prodigy. He was in an accident. His left hand is partially paralyzed, so his career is ruined. He takes his unhappiness out on her when she is so devoted to him she visits him in the hospital almost every day trying to cheer him up. He says cruel things sometimes. Miki can't bear to see him so depressed over it so if she contracts it's always to wish for his stupid hand to be healed.”

“It sounds like he has a pretty legitimate reason to feel like his world has ended and lash out at whoever is convenient,” Yoruichi observed neutrally.

“I don't care,” Homura sniffed.

“Because he hurts your friend in the process?”

“Hmph.”

Yoruichi measured her sour face with a glance. “You resent him.”

“Hmph.”

“Ah. Hmm.” Yoruichi licked one paw as she took a minute to think. Homura hesitantly reached out, the urge to pet her irresistible. The shinigami made an inviting gesture with her head and purred as Homura pet her back. Homura relaxed minutely. Then Yoruichi casually asked, “Have you ever tried healing his hand yourself?”

Homura halted mid-pet. A long silence stretched out between them. Yoruichi looked up at her in interest.

“I... no.” Homura stammered. “No. I....” She stared at the wall, thinking fiercely.

“You resent him so much that helping him never crossed your mind.”

The magical girl glared at the cat but didn't deny it.

Yoruichi tilted her head. “Healing his hand would remove Miki's greatest incentive to contract, wouldn't it?”

“Yes.” Homura ground her teeth. “In many timelines, she and Madoka hesitate over whether to contract for several days. Tomoe advises them to take their wishes seriously-- that making a wish for someone else has the potential to go badly wrong-- and Miki at least _starts out_ grounded enough to weigh the pros and cons. She's usually pushed into contracting by Kamijō snapping or something terrible happening to the others.”

“Snapping?”

Homura's fingers clenched in the cat's fur. “Most often, he yells terrible things at her about her torturing him with her visits. There are some timelines in which Miki catches him trying to commit suicide in one way or another. The few timelines in which she doesn't contract are often ones where he succeeds in an attempt and there's nothing to wish for because the Incubator can't raise the dead.”

“Ah,” Yoruichi said softly. She looked up at Homura out of the corners of her eyes. “Healing him would remove that factor altogether.”

A forceful sigh escaped Homura's lips. “I suppose.”

“It's cute that you're so fierce about protecting your friend from having her feelings hurt by her crush,” Yoruichi said slyly.

Homura scowled. “Sayaka's ridiculous relationship problems drag Madoka down. That's all I care about.”

“Oho, Sayaka, not Miki, eh?” Yoruichi's eyes went half-lidded as she gave the magical girl a significant look. “You're lying to yourself, Homura Akemi.”

Homura's face went red and her eye ticced in fury as she withdrew her hand and crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not!”

“Ah, there's the child in you. She's been quite buried.”

“I am _not_ a child,” Homura seethed.

“Perhaps, perhaps not, depending on the situation,” Yoruichi mused. “You're trapped in an in-between place that doesn't allow you to be a child very often.”

“I haven't considered myself a child for a long time.”

“Oh? What do you consider yourself?”

Homura's mouth worked mulishly before she spat, “A soldier, I suppose.”

Yoruichi just stared at her.

“What?” Homura snapped.

After a long, heavy silence, Yoruichi softly said, “Child soldiers are still children, you know.”

Homura abruptly stood and stormed off to the bathroom. “I'm getting ready for bed.”

Yoruichi solemnly watched her go. It seemed Kisuke and Isshin were right to worry about her.

§ x § x §

Homura had downshifted into just being annoyed the next morning but she still refused to speak with Yoruichi. The cat trotted along behind her as she walked to school, occasionally meowing when they passed other people. Homura presumed the shinigami was trying to get the people who would see her most often to recognize the black cat as belonging to someone familiar-- Yoruichi had spent their first afternoon alone telling stories of how some people reacted to strays and how she messed with such people, but she couldn't break cover to do so in Mitakihara. It made sense.

But did it have to be such a pathetically plaintive meow?

It was like a wordless guilt trip. Her eye had started to tic by the time they turned onto the footpath leading up to the school. The meowing increased in frequency and volume as Homura approached Madoka, who had apparently roped her friends into waiting to meet Homura near the man-made brook that crossed the grounds. They all glanced over at the insistent meowing. Madoka cheered and waved, then hesitated at the way Homura was pointedly ignoring her cat. Homura stopped as she reached them. Yoruichi aggressively walked around her in circles, rubbing against her ankles and meowing with even more distress. Homura frowned mulishly.

“U-um, Homura? What's wrong with Yoruichi?” asked Madoka.

Homura blinked slowly, then glowered down at the cat. “She knows she's in trouble.”

_How_ was a cat capable of puppy-eyes?

Homura narrowed her eyes. “She was a very bad cat last night.”

Yoruichi stopped, stood with her paws on Homura's shoes, and meowed up at her piteously.

The girl with short, light blue hair laughed outright. “Aha! Kissing up to your girl to beg forgiveness, are we?” Yoruichi paused to look at her as though just noticing her, then meowed at her and padded over to rub against her ankles. The blue-haired girl held her ribs and laughed. “Don't look at me to fix things! Get _yourself_ out of your mess! Hahaha!”

“Oh, no,” Madoka cooed. She dropped her school bag, bent, and swept the cat up from under her armpits, stood, and held her up in front of her face. “Were you a naughty kitty last night? After you were _so good_ at the café?” Madoka asked like a disappointed parent.

Yoruichi meowed sadly.

“What happened?” a girl with wavy moss-green hair asked quietly, touching one hand to her cheek in concern. “You look tired.”

“It's complicated,” Homura said after a frustrated pause.

“What'd she do? Wreck your place?” the blue-haired girl drawled with a lazy grin.

Homura pursed her lips. “It was _two in the morning_.” She couldn't think of a story to make up so she left it at that.

The girl laughed loudly again and held her arms up, fingers interlaced behind her neck, school bag dangling from her thumbs. “ _Cats_. Right?”

Madoka brought Yoruichi to her chest for cuddles and looked at Homura imploringly. “I'm sure she's very sorry. Right, Yoruichi?”

Yoruichi gave a pitiful little mewl right on cue, _damn her_.

Homura heaved a great sigh and looked away in defeat. She could ignore Yoruichi's puppy-eyes, but not Madoka's.

“Yay!” Madoka cheered.

“Oho, the queen has granted a reprieve!” the blue-haired girl crowed like a melodramatic narrator doing _next time on--_ episode previews. “Will the cat mend her dastardly ways?!”

Madoka held Yoruichi up again and smiled joyously at her. “I'm sure she will! Won't you, prettykitty?!” She brought the cat close to her face and kissed her nose with an exaggerated “ _mwah!_ ”

Her blue-haired friend laughed again. “Ah, Madoka Kaname: Savior of all things cute and questionably innocent!”

The moss-haired girl smiled affectionately then politely coughed into one hand. “Ahem. I don't think we've been introduced, Miss …?”

“Oh! I'm terrible!” Madoka cried. She cuddled Yoruichi against her chest with one arm and used the other to indicate different people. “Sayaka, Hitomi, this is Homura Akemi! She's transferring in today! Homura, this is Sayaka Miki—”

The blue-haired girl grinned and let go of her bag with one hand to wave. “Yo~!”

“--And Hitomi Shizuki.”

The moss-haired girl smiled and bowed slightly. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Akemi.”

Homura returned the gesture. “Likewise, Shizuki.”

“Ooh, someone with manners as good as Hitomi's!” Sayaka said in mock awe. She turned to Madoka to make a joke but was interrupted by the warning bell. “Aww.”

Madoka reluctantly put Yoruichi down and picked up her school bag. Yoruichi sat and meowed up at the girls.

“Be good,” Homura said for show.

“Will she be okay by herself?” Madoka fretted.

Homura waved a hand dismissively. “She does what she wants. She'll either be here when school is over or be back at the house by dinner. She's an independent explorer and is good at fighting other animals so I'm not worried.”

“A fighter?!” Sayaka bent over with her hands on her knees and looked at Yoruichi with dramatic seriousness. “Go forth and explore Mitakihara, Midnight the Conqueror!”

“Her name is Yoruichi,” Madoka corrected her.

“ _Midnight the Conqueror_ sounds way cooler!”

“Nuh-uh! It just sounds silly! It's too long!”

“Hahahahaha! What, do you think _Night One_ sounds like a ninja name or something?”

“Sa-- Sayaka!”

“You do! Hahahahahahaha!” Sayaka took off running. “Madoka likes ninja cats!”

“That's not it at all!”

Sayaka twirled around. “Oh, right-- only if they're cute!” She took off running again.

“ _Sayaka!_ ”

“Ninja cats! Cute ninja cats! Madoka loves cute ninja cats!”

Hitomi giggled quietly as Madoka chased Sayaka toward the school. She smiled at Homura and took a step away. “Shall we?”

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dear NSA, I promise that browser history about explosives was only for this story.
> 
> Bleach-only readers: I swear the cheesy name conversation in this chapter is tweaked PMMM-canon. Watch the first scene of the first episode of PMMM if you want to see Madoka's weird dream.


	44. DREIUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello, everyone. Thank you for your reviews, as always. :)

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**DREIUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Homura repeated her first day at Mitakihara Middle School yet again. This iteration, she remained cool and competent but allowed Madoka to pull her into her little circle of friends instead of isolating herself. Aside from Madoka, Homura got along best with Hitomi. Mostly because the girl was so calm and polite. Doing anything with Sayaka but sitting back and watching her enthusiastic babbling and gesturing could get exhausting so she just let Madoka handle her.

Homura gave her usual answers to her classmates' usual gushing questions: She was so good at the lessons because her previous school was a bit ahead of this one; her English was good because of her uncle's business and her time at the Catholic school in Tokyo; yes, she had been ill, but surgery and therapy had let her become athletic; no, she didn't know much of anyone in town. This time she added an affirmative when asked if she had any pets and talked about Yoruichi. Madoka would jump in to gush over the cat so Homura could fade back and let her take over the conversation.

Actually, Madoka was always good about seeing when their classmates' questions began to wear on her and redirecting their attention. Every timeline. Homura was grateful.

When the girls were wandering away from the school that afternoon, they found Yoruichi waiting for them, meowing from her perch in the treeline. Homura sighed and held her arms out as they passed the tree and caught the cat when it jumped down. Yoruichi purred and nuzzled her cheek. Homura sighed more deeply. “Yes, yes, I forgive you.”

Madoka giggled. “You said that yesterday, too.”

“Aha, a _regular_ troublemaker?” Sayaka asked with a grin.

“You could say that,” Homura answered. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Would you three like to come to the sidewalk pastry café with me and Yoruichi? My treat.”

“As if I'd _ever_ say no to free cake!” Sayaka crowed.

“Your standards are low, Sayaka,” Madoka teased.

“Are not!” Sayaka put her hands on her hips and snobbily inclined her face skyward. “Anyone who offers free cake to someone they just met is a generous person worth befriending.”

Homura wasn't sure what prompted it, but before she knew it, words that sounded like a more polite version of something Karin would say came spilling out of her mouth. “Ah. Do you accept candy from strangers, then?”

Sayaka tilted her head back and looked at Homura sideways from wide eyes, then burst into delighted laughter. She slung an arm around Homura's shoulders. “Pfft. Stranger danger's for strangers, duh.”

“You just met her today,” Hitomi said as she tried to keep a straight face. “She practically is a stranger.”

“Naaahhhhhh.” Sayaka waved dismissively then leaned into Homura and leered. “Are you saying you have some candy for me, Stranger Danger?”

Madoka and Hitomi giggled while Homura's lips quirked up into a little smile.

“I'd love to come,” Hitomi answered the original question. “I can only stay maybe twenty minutes, though.”

“Tea ceremony?” Sayaka drawled.

“Ikebana,” Hitomi corrected.

“I can never keep them straight.”

Homura made a show of looking confused.

“Oh, Hitomi's mom makes her take a lot of extracurricular lessons,” Madoka explained.

“Ahhh, the plight of the wealthy young heiress!” Sayaka moaned dramatically, holding an arm to her brow as though she would faint.

Hitomi sighed. “I hope she doesn't expect me to continue at this pace when I need to prepare for entrance exams next year.”

“Worry about the future when it comes,” Sayaka said with a little twiddle of her fingers. Then she struck a determined pose and sharply pointed skyward. “Today there is _cake_ to be eaten!”

The girls and the cat claimed a table at a sidewalk café. The time while Hitomi was with them was spent gushing over desserts, fending off Sayaka's' playful attempts to steal from everyone else's plates, and Homura quietly basking in Madoka's sunny presence. When Hitomi left, Madoka asked Sayaka if she was going to the hospital that day. After explaining that her friend had physical therapy that afternoon, Homura coaxed Sayaka and Madoka into doing their homework with her at the table-- she wanted to monopolize as much of their time as she could. Both needed help with math and English, they were provided endless refreshments, and a cute cat took turns nuzzling the girls to be petted, so they didn't exactly put up a fight. They sat there for a couple hours, losing track of time until the sun began to set. Madoka squealed and packed up in a rush of apologies then bolted for home. Sayaka packed up more slowly and laughed at Madoka as she disappeared around a corner, then waved goodbye to Homura and strolled away.

Yoruichi stretched and looked up at Homura. She tilted her head in inquiry. Homura stared at her for a minute then smiled slightly and bent to pick her up.

§ x § x §

A fluffy white tail swished in the shadowed branches of a tree as the pink-haired girl rocketed past in a full sprint.

Not today, it seemed.

Blank red eyes observed the human newcomer as she gathered her educational supplies and left with her pet.

An unexpected interloper. Bothersome.

Worse, the interloper felt like a magical girl. Yet it could not call up a memory of a contract with her.

It did not like confusion.

§ x § x §

“So I did some thinking when I was exploring today,” Yoruichi said over a slab of salmon that night.

Homura hummed inquisitively as she ate her own dinner. They had come to a silent mutual agreement to not talk about the scene in the wee hours.

“Yesterday you said you've tried explaining everything to them. Right?” At Homura's nod, she continued, “Was that before or after the little monster shows up?”

“About half and half, for those times I bothered trying.” Homura took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “If it's after they meet it, they think I'm sowing dissent or something to gain an advantage for myself. If it's before they meet it, they think I'm insane for talking about magical girls. Sakura will sometimes believe me because she's already contracted and is cynical about the world in general, but she has no bearing on the others this early in the timeline. I outright avoid approaching Tomoe since the time she... snapped.” Homura's eyes went distant, vividly seeing the horror in Mami's crazed face after Sayaka's fall, her mind replaying the sharp rattle of Mami's musket as the girl shook like someone had taken a jackhammer to her spine.

“Not at all since that time?” Yoruichi asked quietly.

“No.”

The cat tilted her head. “You know, finding out the way she did is probably what broke her. If you do it in a way that isn't as traumatic as seeing her protègée Hollowfy and try to kill everyone, she could take it better.”

Homura sighed. “I tried a few times before then but she just won't see it. I don't know if it's a defense mechanism or denial or what.”

“Hmmm. So you need to focus on Kaname and Miki for now, since they haven't contracted.” Yoruichi thought while she ate some more. “So, if you tell them about everything before they meet the little monster, they think you're nuts. How do they react once they're approached? Do they heed your warning?”

“Madoka does more than Miki. But they often end up distrusting me. I think what happens is they bring up my concerns and the Incubator talks around them. It's tricky about trying to get them alone to talk to them without my being there to draw attention to its word games. I am never quite sure what slant it puts on its information. There have been slight variations over the cycles. By the time I counter the recruitment speech, Miki is usually too wrapped up in her own little drama to listen to me and Madoka is hesitant but her concern for Miki-- and Tomoe-- drives her to accompany them on Witch hunts even though she hasn't contracted. After the first dozen or so loops, Madoka became most likely to contract when her friends were in dire straits in a labyrinth or when faced with Walpurgisnacht. She knows the consequences, but....” Homura shrugged. “She's too selfless for her own good.”

“The same could be said of you, you know,” Yoruichi commented.

“I'm not selfless.”

“Oh?”

Homura stared at her flatly. “I've become too familiar with the ways wishes function and malfunction to claim such. Many 'selfless' wishes are anything but when you look beyond the surface.”

“Even yours?”

“Even mine.”

Silence weighed on them as Yoruichi watched the girl thoughtfully. “Anyway,” she eventually resumed. “When you tell them before the Incubator approaches them, how do you do it?”

Homura shrugged. “I tell them.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you transform or anything?”

“Sometimes.”

“Maybe you're too blunt?”

“That's possible.” Homura frowned down at her rice and vegetables. “The problem is that if I am gentle about it, the Incubator usually butts in and derails the conversation. Or it or Tomoe imply they think I have ulterior motives for wanting them not to contract before I can adequately explain. Tomoe is a very competent veteran. She inspires new magical girls. She's likable outside of magical girl duties. She's reassuring. Patient with girls who've never fought, a good teacher, and she has a strong moral code. She urges caution with wishes and sounds reasonable. If she doubts me, the other girls doubt me.”

“Hmm.” Yoruichi hummed and twitched an ear. “What if you emulate her role to Kaname and Miki?”

Homura tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I read your testimony about how things go. Tomoe tends to save them from labyrinths, right? So what if you keep cozying up to them as their mysterious new friend, then you manage to be with them and _coincidentally_ stumble into a labyrinth?”

Homura's eyes widened. She stared for a long minute. “...Go on.”

“I'm not saying to play the hero, but... well, actually, yeah, play the hero. You become the first magical girl they know of. Also, the magical girl who saved them. Bring them back here and explain things to them. Only play up that you were tricked into it and you are concerned for them because they have potential and most other magical girls don't understand the trick.” Yoruichi cocked her head. “You trust Kaname, right? Have her do the hundred meter test with Miki watching.”

Face white, Homura tried to speak but stopped and stared at the cat, her lips tight.

“You did once say the doll/puppet/zombie dynamic was highly distressing to them. If anything could scare them off contracting, seeing you all but dead should help.”

Homura made a strangled sound.

Yoruichi looked at her levelly. “I'll be right here, you know,” she said gently.

Homura covered her face and breathed deeply. Yoruichi let her think. The girl finally tilted her head way back and looked sightlessly at the ceiling. “That sounds... doable. It has potential.”

“I wouldn't have suggested something that serious if I thought otherwise,” the cat said. “Pair that with nullifying the need for Miki to contract and you could have more control.”

“Miki's wish. Kamijō's hand. Right.” Homura centered herself, breathing slowly. “I'd like your opinion. If I am capable, should I heal his hand completely or partially? Or partially for now with another healing later?”

“Take me with you. Let me see his chart. I think we should aim for believable improvement but I don't know if that's even possible. Things can get screwy sometimes when you combine living bodies and reiatsu. If you're inexperienced, you may only be able to start out with something very basic anyway.” Yoruichi stood and stretched. “I have a lot of training in healing. I can walk you through something more specific than just dumping reiatsu into the injury and hoping for the best. If that works, I'll have you devour information on the anatomy of the human hand and go from there.” She padded over to the door. “Shall we?”

§ x § x §

On the way to school the next morning, Yoruichi whispered an idea to Homura. Homura had looked doubtful, but Yoruichi had said to trust her and that it was part of her training to strengthen her sense of humor and friendliness, which Karin had said she needed. Homura had not been aware anyone was taking such comments seriously. It was simple enough, though, so Homura complied and made a small purchase at a convenience store. She then found the three girls waiting on the path for her.

“Heeeyyyyy, Stranger Danger!” Sayaka called with a wave.

Perfect.

Homura stopped by them, reached into her bag, and held her hand out to Sayaka with a solemn face. “Here.”

Sayaka blinked, then held her hand out eagerly. “A present?!”

Homura pulled her hand back. Sayaka looked down, was silent with surprise for a moment, then started cackling so hard she couldn't breathe.

“Oh, my. Candy?” Hitomi said with a smile.

“If I'm to be a stranger, I must do it properly,” Homura said gravely.

Hitomi and Madoka giggled. Sayaka _wheeeeeezed_. Homura felt a moment of warmth.

The school day passed much as the previous one, though Madoka's friends had lost their hesitance about Homura and treated her as one of their own. They went to the sidewalk café again after school, though Hitomi had to leave for yet another of her mother's required lessons and Sayaka begged off doing homework to go visit her friend at the hospital. That suited Homura fine-- she had the entire afternoon with Madoka. Madoka invited Homura to come to her house with Yoruichi instead of sitting at the café, to which Homura agreed.

§ x § x §

Red eyes watched the girls walk away from under a car.

Not today, it seemed.

Patience was its nature, though. The right moment would come.

§ x § x §

Homura conveniently escorted Madoka home, then both of them skived off homework to play with little Tatsuya and an indulgently gentle Yoruichi. Apparently Madoka wasn't the only Kaname to adore cats. Even Tomohisa had a soft spot for Yoruichi, who played up her cuteness, shamelessly rubbing against his legs and purring until he dropped cooking scraps down to her. She had then cozied up to Madoka's mother when the businesswoman staggered in the door, exhausted.

Homura ate dinner with the Kaname family that night. It was like a far calmer version of eating with the Kurosaki family-- not as wild, but just as warm. She was coming to find that she liked to eat with families.

§ x § x §

Sayaka was so deliriously happy that she literally skipped home from the hospital. Kyōsuke had been hopeful for the first time in weeks. He had proudly showed her that he could flex his fingers better-- had even managed the motions for a simple song, if slowly and stiffly so-- and said that the numbness had faded a bit in two of his fingers. It wasn't dramatic, but it was progress after a long stretch without any. Sayaka had gushed about the new therapy from the previous day working. Kyōsuke had joined her and excitedly rambled on about the further therapies he wanted to do, how he thought he could really get better if he could strengthen it, how his doctors were so pleased, how his mother had cried.

Kyōsuke had smiled at her for the first time in over a month. That was a treasure to Sayaka.

The world was a wonderful place.

§ x § x §

Homura and Yoruichi had another stop-and-go strategy session late that night as Homura methodically pulled stolen weaponry and ammunition out of her shield to prepare them for immediate use in battle. Again, Yoruichi went quiet whenever the girl was handling the more dangerous items.

“So, I thought I'd let you know my plans for tomorrow,” Yoruichi eventually said. “Just in case.”

The magical girl raised a brow. “Oh?”

“You remember the disappearances from last time around, right?”

“Yes. Not the specifics, but in general.”

Yoruichi watched her own tail lashing. “Tomorrow is Thursday the twenty-fourth of March. Last time, Sumire Akane went missing overnight, gone by Friday morning. I'm going to go to Asunaro early and follow her around all afternoon and into the night. See if she's a magical girl or whatever. See what happens to her.”

“Ah,” Homura said in understanding. “Once we part tomorrow, I shouldn't expect to see you until Friday, then?”

“Yep.”

Homura paused and stared at the cat expressionlessly. Yoruichi waited. Finally, the magical girl said, “Be careful.”

Pleased with the sign of concern, Yoruichi chimed, “I will~!” She cocked her head. “Your plans?”

Homura pursed her lips as she unpacked more bullets. “Tomorrow, the Rose Garden Witch's Familiars may generate a labyrinth on the floor of the mall that is closed for renovations. I like your idea and I think it would be safest to try with a Familiar labyrinth.” She sighed. “I just have to figure out an excuse to get them to come to the abandoned floor with me. Last time, I was chasing the Incubator and it called Madoka for help. Assuming it shows up there. My different tactics this time around may have changed things just enough for it to be somewhere else.”

“ _It_ being the Familiar or the Incubator?”

“Both,” Homura said with an unhappy shrug.

“Hmmm. Well, if all else fails, you could just look disturbed and hurry away like you're looking for something. If you don't say anything, they may follow you.”

Homura sniffed disdainfully. “Miki would definitely do that.”

Yoruichi made a satisfied sound. “Well, now that's settled... Your friends are _adorable_.”

Homura's lips quirked up.

§ x § x §

Homura's friends were surprised when Yoruichi wasn't there to greet them after school. Homura shrugged and said the cat was probably exploring and that they could go somewhere different since they didn't have a cat with them. Hitomi suggested taking Homura to the trio's usual café in the mall. Homura mentioned she hadn't been to the mall yet. Sayaka's face firmed into determined mission-mode as she declared they had to fix that.

After Hitomi left for another lesson, Sayaka dragged Homura and Madoka to a music shop. After she bought something for Kyōsuke, she led the girls around the mall. Madoka smiled indulgently and played along with the tour guide act. They were near the hall that led to the restrooms and staff stairs when Homura paused and looked down the corridor.

The Familiar. She felt it.

Madoka noticed she had stopped and turned to her after tugging Sayaka's sleeve to make her stop. “Homura?”

Homura didn't reply. She looked disturbed and stepped down the empty hall.

“If you gotta go, you can just tell us,” Sayaka said with amusement. “We won't make fun of you.”

Homura walked past the bathrooms. Sayaka and Madoka looked at each other in confusion and silently agreed to follow their new friend. They trailed her up a floor, through a door with DO NOT ENTER plastered on it-- Madoka whined--, and across a dimly lit room with a black and white checker tiled floor until they reached a short set of stairs. Both girls knew it was the entrance to a community art gallery, but its hours of operation sign was covered with a different sign that read THIS FLOOR CLOSED DUE TO RENOVATIONS. The fancy staircase was roped off, but Homura dodged around the obstacle and climbed the stairs.

“Hey, Stranger Danger! Where do you think you're going?” Sayaka hissed loudly.

Homura stopped mid-step and looked over her shoulder at them. “It would probably be best if you stayed here.”

“Like hell!”

Madoka gasped. “Homura, your ring is glowing!”

Homura lifted her left hand and splayed out her fingers. Her Soul Gem ring was indeed glowing purple. Good. She glanced back at the other girls. “You can see it?”

“Of course we can see it!” Sayaka snapped.

“That's a really strange question, Homura,” Madoka said worriedly.

Homura stared at them more, then finally said, “Maybe you should come with me after all. I can protect you that way.”

“P-protect us?” Madoka squeaked.

“From what?” Sayaka demanded.

“I suppose you'll see soon enough,” Homura said as she crested the stairs and opened the door. “There's no time to explain right now.”

Sayaka took a deep breath and stomped up the stairs. Madoka whimpered and followed on her heels.

The empty art gallery was dark, lit only by the faint green light of exit signs, occasional red emergency lights to mark paths, and fading daylight from the distant windows on the other end of the building. Construction materials were strewn about between concrete pillars. Homura brazenly walked through the forbidden room. Sayaka, edgy, shoved her bag at Madoka and grabbed the first potential weapon she could find: a fire extinguisher. They followed Homura to a section that was barred by a chain link fence. Homura looked down at her ring, which was glowing more brightly, and turned left. She followed a series of chains hanging from the ceiling, then halted.

“Here it comes.”

“Here _what_ comes?” Sayaka demanded.

The air suddenly became misty. Lights flared and dimmed at random. Before Homura, a large vertical circle made out of dead butterflies pinned to vine wreaths manifested and spun towards them, followed by another and another. It felt like moving through a tunnel. Their surroundings flashed through a series of images like rapidly changing art slides. The pillars and construction supplies all reappeared flat and papery as though pieces of a collage. Multicolored doily-like mandalas spun in random places in the air. Signs featuring runes, German words, and black mustaches scribbled in marker were dotted about. The distant walls were studded with paper cutouts of fancy windows. Barbed wire-like brambles and papier maché butterflies were everywhere. Chains draped at random from above. Something-- _many_ somethings-- giggled and clattered in the shadows.

Madoka was so frightened she forgot to let go of the book bags when she threw her arms around Sayaka. “What's happening?!”

Homura glanced over her shoulder and opened her mouth, but the rattling was joined by chanting in children's voices as big, jittering cotton balls jerked out of the shadows.

“ _Das! Sind! Mir! Unbekannte! Blumen! Ja! Sie! Sind! Mir! Auch! Unbekannt!_ ”*

“W-what the hell?!” Sayaka rasped.

“ _Schneiden! Wir! Sie! Ab?! Ja! Schneiden! Wir! Sie! Ab! Die! Rosen! Schenken! Wir! Unsrer! Königin!_ ”

“W-what's _happening?!_ ” Madoka wailed again.

The cotton balls h **a** d mustaches pasted o **n** them and were moun **t** ed on black stems t **h** at ended in butterfly wings, which functi **o** ned as their legs. Thor **n** y vines darted through the air, trailing behind man **y** pairs of snapping scissors that sounded like machetes cleaving brush.

“ _Und! Die! Schlechten! Blumen! Steigen! Auf! Die! Guillotine!_ ”

“Guillotine?! Did I just hear _guillotine?!_ ” Sayaka shrieked.

As the monsters drew closer, the girls could see grotesque mouths made from paper cutouts of sketches of lips and teeth shifting about with the chanting. Dark holes served as eyes. The scissor-briars had apparently sprouted from the eye sockets, as every eye had multiple vines coming out of it.

“ _JA! SCHNEIDE! SIE! AB! JA! SCHNEIDE! SIE! HERAUS!_ ”

“Stay together!” Homura ordered. “I'll take care of this!”

With that, Homura triggered her transformation, violet light rushing around her and replacing her school uniform with her battle costume, finishing with the manifestation of her shield. She stood firm and glared at the Familiars as she conjured her rarely-used barrier. A purple sigil that mirrored the curl designs on her shield appeared on the ground beneath them. The magic burst upwards like vines and coiled into a swirling domed cage of light. Madoka and Sayaka gaped as the force of the magic whipped at all their clothes and hair. Homura thrust her shield arm skyward and took a deep breath.

She'd never actually tried this before. It was an idea she'd toyed with while thinking about the strange “kidō” spells she had seen the shinigami use in the big battle.

Instead of stopping time and using her weapons, Homura focused on her magic as it flowed through the whorls of the barrier and mentally made it behave like when she would shoot bolts of pure magic at the Incubator. Violet rays lanced straight out from the dome in all directions, skewering and destroying the Familiars. Homura let the dome fade out of existence as cotton balls disappeared and their butterfly feet flew away. The nightmare world wobbled and faded, leaving the three girls back in the dark renovation area. Homura felt a bit disoriented but was satisfied with her first experimental technique-- it wasn't particularly strong, but it got the job done with minor Familiars. She blinked rapidly and turned to the others.

Sayaka was frozen with the fire extinguisher brandished in front of her. Madoka was clinging to her waist like a vise to stay upright, knees too weak to stand and school bags dangling from each hand. Both stared at Homura with wide eyes.

Homura pushed her hair over her shoulders and stepped closer to them as the magical dome shimmered and burst away like a popping bubble. “Are you injured?” she asked calmly. The girls shook their heads, still gaping silently.

Then Sayaka snapped back to herself. “W-what the hell was _that?!_ ” she demanded. “What the hell is that cosplay?! What the _hell_ is going on?!”

Homura sighed. “This isn't cosplay. I'm a magical girl.”

“Say what?!”

“I'm a magical girl.”

Sayaka sputtered. “I heard you the first time!”

“Then why ask?”

Sayaka squawked and tried to come up with a response as Madoka finally dropped the school bags and lunged for Homura. Madoka wrapped her arms around Homura's waist and cried. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I was so scared!”

Homura sadly patted her hair. “You're safe now. I'll protect you from those things to the best of my ability from now on.”

Madoka jumped back and looked up at Homura with damp eyes. “There are more of them?!” she asked fearfully.

“Yes.”

“What _are_ they?” Sayaka demanded again, trying to hide her fear with shaky bravado.

Homura took a deep breath and released her transformation. Things were actually going as planned for once in her life. It made her uneasy. “I think you should come to my house so I can explain in private.”

§ x § x §

Yoruichi paced restlessly at Homura's door as she waited for the three reiatsu signatures to reappear from the pocket dimension. She was incredibly tense.

To say her reconnaissance had not gone as planned would be putting it lightly.

She had reached the northern edge of Mitakihara around noon, thinking she'd go to Akane's school and camp out until classes let out for the day to stalk her. It had seemed a perfectly logical plan until she actually crossed into Asunaro city limits.

She felt subtly odd at first. Two blocks in, she stopped in her tracks and wondered why she was even there. Yoruichi racked her brain.

Magical girls. She was going to follow a girl to see what caused her disappearance. It was part of the investigation of a threat against girls and Soul Society. That threat could also be wandering the streets of Asunaro, as it did Mitakihara, so she had to be watchful. It looked like--

Like--?

The threat was called--

Blank. She _knew_ this!

The threat was--  
  
Looked like--

...A black cat wearing a white scarf? No, that didn't sound right.

It was a threat because-- because--

The enemy was--

Nothing.

Something was not right. Something was deeply wrong. This wasn't like her. Yoruichi ran through her options and experience from her time in charge of the Thirteen Divisions' Covert Operations. Checked herself, checked herself--

A chill ran down her spine. Something like a complex, passive kidō had ensnared her so smoothly she hadn't noticed. Was affecting her memory. Had made her _forget who her enemy was_.

The cat haltingly turned around and retraced her steps to Mitakihara. As soon as she left Asunaro city limits, her mind supplied _Incubator – white cat-rabbit thing that eats Soul Gems and so on_. Obviously, the enemy was the Incubator.

Yoruichi had stared back at Asunaro for a long time, profoundly disturbed.

Now she paced and paced around a package a delivery person had left. It smelled of Yuzu and baked goods, which was soothing. She relaxed minutely when the girls' reiatsu reappeared. She hoped Homura's experiment had gone better than her own mission.

Yoruichi needed to talk to Kisuke. Immediately.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xxxxxxxxxx  
> WITCH DATA  
> ?????  
> ?????  
> Minion: Anthony. His duty is landscaping. His mustache is set by the Witch.  
> xxxxxxxxxx
> 
> A/N: Somehow, my characters keep making up new nicknames for Homura.
> 
> * The German chanting is taken directly from the PMMM anime. Google “madoka wiki gertrud” and scroll down to “note” to translate. ;)
> 
> So yeah, this story arc is going to contain Kazumi Magica stuff. If you haven't read the manga, it's available online. I plan to explain everything but if you want visuals, have at it. You can also google “madoka wiki kazumi magica” for text. Or if you prefer to be surprised, just read along. I don't plan to straight-up fully retell the manga but the major plot twists will be there.


	45. VIERUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A few people asked why I'm complicating things by adding Kazumi Magica to the already complex plot.  
> 1\. I need/want the abilities and knowledge of at least two of the characters.  
> 2\. My own entertainment. :)  
> Yeah, some of the Pleiades Saints' powers are broken af in canon, but I'm going to try to handle them carefully.
> 
> ...I just realized that the Kazumi Magica big bad's powers may have been able to mess with Aizen. Or Aizen could have manipulated tf out of her. Someone write that fic.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**VIERUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Madoka anxiously fidgeted with the strap of her book bag at Homura's coffee table as Homura made tea in the kitchen. She kept meeting Sayaka's equally uneasy eyes. Neither dared speak. They couldn't help but notice that Yoruichi had seemed irritable and clingy as she followed her owner through the townhouse and into the kitchen. Even now, they could faintly hear Homura's voice saying soothing words just quiet enough to be unintelligible. Obviously, there was no way the cat's mood could be a reaction to the strangeness they found themselves in, but it was just one more thing to add to the pile of wrongness that made their scalps prickle.

Madoka knew the moment when Sayaka couldn't take the tension anymore. Her friend's face shifted through multiple emotions before the girl leaned over the table and stage-whispered, “Do you think we've gone crazy? Do you think _she's_ crazy?”

“I suppose it must seem so.”

Sayaka squealed and recoiled as Homura politely set the tea tray on the table as though her sanity hadn't been called into question in her own home.

“Wah, uh, sorry-- I shouldn't've--”

“It's all right,” Homura said quietly, face neutral. “You've had quite a shock.”

Sayaka flushed and looked down at her lap as Homura served them.

“I don't have any snacks right now,” Homura said as she sat. “I apologize.”

“O-oh, no! No! That's fine!” Madoka gushed nervously. “W-we ate earlier, and tea is lovely... right, Sayaka?” Sayaka stared blankly. Madoka's face went a bit desperate. “ _Right_ , Sayaka?”

Sayaka jumped and turned forward again. “O-oh! Yeah! Tea's great!”

Homura sipped from her cup, delicately put it down, and folded her hands in her lap as her cat stalked into the room and lay under the table. Homura looked up at them, face so coldly serious it made Madoka hold her breath for a moment.

“Before I begin, I want to acknowledge that I can be very blunt. You may not like it. There are other people who could explain this to you. They may do it more gently. They also might skim over the more unpleasant information through either ignorance or malice. I prefer brutal honesty.”

“Brutal, huh,” Sayaka muttered warily.

“So. Let's begin.” Homura squared her shoulders. “First simple fact: Magical girls are real.” She raised a brow in question. Madoka and Sayaka nodded; they'd seen the entire light show. “Second: Becoming a magical girl is not the innocent fluff you see in anime. There may be good times, but it is mostly very difficult.”

“How?” Madoka asked softly.

Homura inclined her chin in acknowledgment, her manner academically aloof. “The superficial difficulties are social isolation due to keeping your secret, strained relationships, lack of time for extracurricular activities-- or dating, late nights, serious injuries, and the very real risk of death.”

“D-death?” Madoka squeaked.

Homura looked at her evenly, seeming to debate something. She carefully asked, “What did you think those giant scissors were going to do?”

Madoka and Sayaka gulped. Point made.

“What-- what _was_ that place, anyway?” Sayaka asked with forced challenge.

“The proper term is a labyrinth. It is a pocket dimension controlled by the... entities that magical girls fight,” Homura answered. “I will explain that in due time. I want to begin with what a magical girl is.” Homura steepled her fingers together on the table. “When a girl develops enough spiritual power, a third party sometimes notices and attempts to recruit them-- contract them-- to become magical girls. This third party introduces itself as Kyubey. It looks like a cute stuffed animal. It offers girls the chance to have a single wish granted.”

Sayaka perked up. “A wish?”

Homura's eyes slid to her and stared for a minute. After Sayaka had withdrawn slightly, Homura continued. “Yes. Kyubey considers the granted wish as a down payment. In exchange, the girl pledges her soul to become a magical girl and fight designated enemies.”

“Her soul?” Madoka asked hesitantly, nibbling her lip.

“Yes. A magical girl's object of power is called a Soul Gem.” Homura held out her left hand. Violet light flashed from her ring and reformed as an egg-shaped amethyst set in gold. “The Soul Gem allows a magical girl to be extremely durable. However, Kyubey's sales pitch glosses over the fact that it is called a Soul Gem because the contract is sealed by Kyubey tearing the girl's soul out of her body and condensing it into a crystal. The girl's body is essentially a puppet afterward. The actual girl-- her mind, her soul-- are contained in the Gem.”

Madoka and Sayaka looked at each other, then down at the amethyst in Homura's hand. “Th-that's your soul?” Madoka whispered.

“Yes,” Homura said, subdued. She looked at her own Gem for a moment, then met their eyes. “I am aware of how unbelievable this must sound. So if you are willing to do an experiment, I would like to prove my claim before I move on. As a show of good faith.”

Sayaka balked. “Experiment? What kind of experiment?”

Homura took a deep breath. “One disadvantage of possessing a Soul Gem is that its... grip, I suppose... on the magical girl's body is severed if the Gem passes out of a range of one hundred meters from the body. At that point, the soulless body collapses like a doll. Death is not immediate if attended quickly, but it is highly probable.” Homura carefully reached out and offered her Soul Gem to Madoka, who took it in shaking hands, too surprised to refuse. “Madoka, please walk down the street with this. Go at least one hundred meters and come right back.”

Panic flooded Madoka. “But-- b-but--” she looked down at the precious treasure in her hands. “You-- you just gave me your soul?!”

Homura drew her hand back to her lap, but couldn't hide its tremble before Madoka and Sayaka saw it. “Yes.” She looked Madoka in the eye. Earnest. “I trust you,” she whispered. “Just put it in my hand when you come back.”

“Wait, wait, _wait_ , what's this gonna do?” Sayaka demanded.

Homura pushed her hair back. “I will collapse and stop breathing.”

“ _What?!_ ”

“I'll be fine once the Gem is put back in my hand. My soul will reclaim my body.”

“ _What?!_ ”

Homura sighed. “Please go, Madoka. I want this to be over.”

“You-- you don't have to do this,” Madoka said with distress. “We believe--”

“No. You _must_ witness it to understand. I have explained to... other girls, and they did not truly believe me. Please, go.”

Madoka shakily rose to her feet and staggered toward the door. Sayaka flailed. “Wait, wait, what's Madoka supposed to do when people on the street see her with a giant piece of fancy jewelry?! Someone could try to steal it!”

“No one will see it,” Homura said calmly as Madoka glanced back at her in new fear. “There was a reason I asked if you could see it earlier. I will explain. Please go, Madoka.”

Madoka whimpered and went out the door. She hesitated and looked around. Everything seemed so normal. She looked down at the-- the _literal soul_ in her palm and gulped. Cold sweat beaded on her temples.

Homura trusted her to do this. They had just met and she trusted her with her soul. It was humbling.

The hundred meters felt like an epic journey that would never end. Her steps slowed in dread as she neared the estimated cutoff point. She forced herself to go past it just in case her estimate was wrong, then froze for a minute and took several gasping breaths, turned, and sprinted back to Homura's townhouse. She barreled in the door and rushed into the living room.

Sayaka was kneeling over Homura's lifeless form where the girl had collapsed backwards. Madoka ran over and slid the last bit on her knees, searching for Homura's face beyond Sayaka's frantic attempts to shake Homura awake. It was useless; Homura's violet eyes remained unfocused and glassy. She wasn't breathing. Dead? Madoka's chest constricted. _Brave girl jumping-- flying back-- hitting a building--_

“The egg thing! Madoka! The egg!”

Madoka snapped back to reality and fumbled the Soul Gem into one of Homura's open hands. Her new friend immediately arched, blinked, and drew a gasping breath. Madoka threw herself down into a hug on top of Homura and wailed her relief. Sayaka sat back and held the sides of her head in both hands, face contorted in distress. After a minute or so, Madoka felt fingers in her hair. She sat up and tearfully looked at Homura.

Homura looked up at the girls solemnly. “Do you see how serious this is?” Both girls nodded fervently. Homura sighed. “I'm glad.” She levered herself up. “Let us continue.”

Sayaka scrubbed tears from her cheeks and sputtered, “You just died!”

“Technically. But I'm fine now.” Madoka thought the sharp look she gave Sayaka was strange. “Aside from using my body as a puppet, that is.” She tilted her head and looked at Sayaka through half-lidded eyes. “A couple girls I have known have called us zombies and said we're no longer truly human.”

Sayaka gave a full-body shudder.

“That's wrong!” Madoka cried. When Homura looked at her in surprise, Madoka balled her hands into fists and looked pained. “That's wrong! You're just as human as me! Whe-whether your soul is in-- in your body or not, it's still a human soul, right?” She firmed her face stubbornly. “That's what matters! Never let anyone tell you you're not human ever again!”

Homura just stared at her for a long time, nonplussed, eyes wide. Then she tilted her head and stared more. Just when Madoka faltered and started to go red in the face, Homura wistfully said, “You are truly kindhearted.”

Madoka sputtered and crab-walked back to her place at the table, face aflame. Sayaka laughed weakly. “That's our Madoka.”

Madoka pouted at Sayaka and forced all her attention on her teacup as she tried to control her blush. She'd just gotten in Homura's face and preached at her. The magical girl hadn't even said she agreed with the inhuman thing. How embarrassing.

“Anyway,” Homura said as though she hadn't just resurrected herself, “That's not the worst of it.”

“Oh, God,” Sayaka said dully.

Homura delicately set her Soul Gem on the table again. “When a magical girl contracts, she becomes obligated to fight enemies called Witches. They are cursed spirits who lure innocent humans into their labyrinths--”

“That thing today?” Sayaka interrupted.

“Yes. They either lure humans into their labyrinths whole or overwhelm them with so much despair that they commit suicide, at which point the Witch eats their soul.”

Madoka recoiled in horror. “That's-- that's awful!”

“Why hasn't anyone noticed them?!” Sayaka demanded.

Homura tossed her hair over her shoulder. Madoka fleetingly wondered if it was some kind of nervous tic. “They are invisible to most. Victims are generally reported as suicides, mysterious deaths, or missing persons who are never found.”

“So-- so magical girls protect the innocent? You put your life on the line to protect the innocent?” Sayaka recovered some color and looked at Homura with admiration. “You're so awesome!”

Unexpectedly, Homura's face twisted into a thunderous scowl as she leaned forward to glare. “There is _nothing_ noble about this,” she hissed. “This isn't a child's fairy tale with simple good and evil. I am no hero. I am like any other magical girl-- enslaved by my own wish. _Doomed_ by my own wish.”

Sayaka went pale again and pulled back from the table uncertainly. Madoka bit her lip hard. “W-what do you mean, doomed?”

Homura reined herself in, sat ramrod straight, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. She relaxed and opened her eyes, face back in a neutral mask. “The part that... Kyubey... never mentions to potential contractees is that Soul Gems... aren't invincible. They become corrupted as a magical girl uses her magic to fight. They become even more sullied if a magical girl begins to slip into negativity and depression. All magical girls know that their Soul Gems get darker after fights and brighter after....” She trailed off, pursed her lips, and backtracked. “When a Witch is defeated, it usually drops an item called a Grief Seed. They're smaller than Soul Gems and are completely black. A magical girl can use a Grief Seed to clean the darkness out of her own Soul Gem. Then Kyubey collects and eats the Grief Seed, which it says is its goal. However, the part it leaves out is that if a magical girl does not clean her Soul Gem or if she gets so depressed she falls into despair, her Soul Gem will turn black, become a Grief Seed, and transform the magical girl into a Witch. Thus, the enemies of magical girls were once magical girls themselves. Magical girls have always been intended to become Witches in the system devised by... Kyubey.”

Madoka had never felt so sick and horrified in her entire life. She covered her mouth, then slid her hands up to cover her eyes as she began to cry again.

“No way. Are-- are you sure?” Sayaka rasped. “That's-- that's--”

“I am certain,” Homura said with her eyes lowered in melancholy. “I have seen magical girls fall myself. My... friends.” She looked up at them, pained. “Girls who have already contracted don't believe me when I tell them. They don't want to believe me because it's too late for them. That's why I've taken the time to explain this to you.” Her face went hard but her eyes were desperate. “Please, _don't_ contract and become magical girls!”

Madoka jolted and looked up at her in shock, as did Sayaka. “W-what did you say?”

“Us?”

Homura nodded firmly and breathed deeply. “You saw my ring glowing. You stayed sane in the labyrinth. You can see my Soul Gem now. You both have enough spiritual power in your souls to become magical girls.” She leaned forward on the table and entreated them, “ _Please don't._ ” Her voice was breathy as she continued, “You will probably be approached by a little white creature that looks like a cross between a cat with a fluffy tail and a bunny with floppy ears. It will speak using telepathy. It will tell you it is called Kyubey. Its true name is _Incubator_.” She held up her Soul Gem-- her _egg-shaped_ Soul Gem. “It contracts girls specifically to turn them into Witches and harvest the energy their souls create when in despair. It lures girls in with promises of wishes that can go very, _very_ wrong. Disastrously wrong. I know of a girl whose entire family ended up dead because of her wish intended to help them. It doesn't matter how well you think you know what you want-- or what you think _someone else_ wants-- it almost always goes bad somehow. I--” Homura paused and looked between the girls, then focused on Madoka with a wretched face. “I-- don't want to watch you fall. Either of you. So please: _Don't contract_.”

Madoka and Sayaka were silent for a long time, staring at the table with drawn faces while Homura poured more tea.

“If-- if you knew this,” Sayaka said slowly. “Why did you contract?”

Homura hummed sadly. “I didn't know any of this before I contracted. I was tricked. I found out bit by bit afterward.”

“Oh.” Sayaka fidgeted with her skirt like a scolded child and looked up again. “If you had known, would you have done it?”

The magical girl stared at her. It was a thousand-yard stare, a detached stare, a hollow stare of having seen too much with little to show for it. It made Madoka want to bury the girl in candy and plushies and hugs and warmth-- anything, _anything_ to erase it. Homura didn't notice the look on Madoka's face, too focused on Sayaka. She carefully answered, “There were... extraordinary circumstances for me. My hand would have been forced. So given that specific set of circumstances... possibly.”

“What did you wish for?” Sayaka asked stubbornly.

“ _Sayaka!_ ” Madoka hissed. Somehow, she just _knew_ that was an extremely rude question. It was the worst timing possible for one of her friend's moments of _utter lack of tact_.

Homura's stare went cold. Her mouth shifted distastefully as though she was chewing on potential words. “My wish... was intended to protect a girl who had already contracted.”

“And how did that work out?” Sayaka asked morbidly. “Did it get someone killed like that other girl's?”

Madoka saw her new friend's face go disturbingly dark. “Sayaka, _stop!_ ” When Sayaka just kept staring at Homura expecting an answer, Madoka made a sound of distress and dove across to slap a hand over Sayaka's mouth as the room seemed to spin in her vision. She could swear the air was quivering. Instinct told her _Homura is furious_. She could feel it on her shoulders, taste it in the air. Madoka staggered to her feet and babbled apologies, hauled Sayaka upright, and dragged her stumbling to the door while delivering an appalled if stammered lecture.

“Madoka. Mi-- Sayaka.”

Both girls whirled to look back at Homura, who was still sitting at the table, absolutely still. Her face was blank as though she had removed her _angry_ mask and had yet to decide which mask to use next. She looked much older than them all of a sudden.

“This is not how I wanted this conversation to end.” Her eyes strayed to Sayaka and back to Madoka. “Whether or not you believe me is your choice. However, I urge you to be careful with the Incubator. It talks smoothly. It may get other magical girls who do not know all of the facts to tell you about the advantages of being a magical girl. So be it. But ask questions. Ask _many_ questions. Your first one should be _what is a Soul Gem made out of?_ Your second should be _where do Witches come from?_ ” Homura tilted her head slowly, eyes flinty, and managed to look like a bird of prey on the hunt. “I am unsure whether the Incubator is capable of telling direct lies. Just do not automatically believe everything it tells you.”

“But we should believe everything _you've_ told us?” Sayaka challenged.

Madoka's face tightened with silent _what do you think you're doing?!_

Homura leveled an arctic glare at Sayaka. “I would prefer that you do, but that is your prerogative. Do not make hasty decisions. This is not something you can change your mind about once you have committed.” She pursed her lips and looked at Madoka. More hesitantly, she said, “I... like... you. I don't want to see you sell your soul and trap yourself in that contract. Either of you.”

The three girls were tensely silent for a long time. Finally, Homura stood, smoothed her skirt, and nodded politely. “Will I see you before school tomorrow?” _Do you want nothing to do with me now?_

“Of course!” Madoka answered immediately. _Don't be silly!_

“S-sorry. No-- no hard feelings, Stranger Danger,” Sayaka said weakly. She scuffed her toe on the floor uncomfortably. “I'm sorry. It's just... that was hardcore harsh.”

Homura blinked placidly and approached them at the door. “I did say--”

“ _Brutally_ honest. Right,” Sayaka finished with a strained laugh. “You... you made your point, I guess.”

“I suppose that is all I can do for now,” Homura said quietly. “Don't tell Shizuki. Let me know if anyone starts harassing you. Either the little monster or another magical girl. I'm not the only one in Mitakihara.”

“Thank you, Homura,” Madoka said quietly with a shallow bow of her head. “We'll keep this in mind.”

The two friends walked away together. Half a block away, Madoka turned and looked back at Homura's house. Homura was standing in front of her open door, watching them walk away with a deeply sad and exhausted expression.

Madoka believed her.

§ x § x §

Red eyes looked down on the girls from atop a nearby building.

They had been in a labyrinth. The interloper really was a magical girl. It seemed she had explained some of the system to the candidates. The candidates were upset.

That wouldn't do.

§ x § x §

Homura sat down at her table with her head in her hands and took a shaky breath. An anxiety crash plus lingering anger at Sayaka made her feel unsteady.

Yoruichi slunk out from under the table and climbed into her lap. “I see what you meant about Miki being stubborn and defiant,” she commented wryly. “My guess would be that it's a defense mechanism when she is overwhelmed. Otherwise, that... challenge came out of nowhere.”

Homura sighed and ran her fingers through Yoruichi's fur. “She's so frustrating.”

“She's a teenager,” Yoruichi droned. “You're all frustrating.” She ignored Homura's dirty look. “Open the package you brought in. It smells like a gift from Yuzu.”

The magical girl raised a brow and pulled the neat package toward her. It had no return address. She opened it and found an unsigned letter hoping at least one of the kinds of cookies within tasted good. Homura peered in the box.

“That's... a lot of cookies.”

Yoruichi snorted. “That's Yuzu. Ah, and she was smart enough to not sign it and link you to her by accident. Good.” She stretched a bit and settled herself more comfortably. “Dig in. You need to calm down. Cookies are a girl's best friend.”

Homura tentatively tasted cookies. The cat lay calmly in Homura's lap and allowed herself to be petted until she sensed the tremor was gone from the girl's hands. Fifteen minutes later, Yoruichi gravely said, “I need you to get out your phone and call Kisuke. I need to tell him about Asunaro.”

The magical girl nodded and reached for her bag as Yoruichi jumped up onto the table. Homura dialed Kisuke's Soul Phone number, set the phone to speaker, and put it on the table between herself and the cat.

“Hello, hello, hello, direct line to Kisuke Urahara! Kisuke Urahara speaking! How may I help my favorite magical girl~?”

Homura raised her brows at the phone while the cat snorted. “Kisuke, we need to talk,” Yoruichi droned.

“Oh, my favorite kitty-cat! Are you enjoying yourself in Mitakihara?”

“If by enjoying myself you mean wandering into a mind-altering kidō to the north, sure.”

Silence. “Mind-altering _how?_ ”

“Forgetting-my-enemy mind-altering.”

A long pause. “Well, that's not good.”

Yoruichi snorted again and drily agreed, “No, not exactly.”

“Please describe the incident.”

Yoruichi gave a detailed report. The clacking of computer keys faintly emanated from the phone as Kisuke transcribed her testimony.

“Did it feel Hollow?”

“No.”

“Interesting. Miss Akemi?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever encountered anything that has that effect?”

“No,” Homura answered. “But I have never ventured that far north.”

“How curious.”

Both Homura and Yoruichi sat silently while they listened to the sound of Kisuke drumming his fingers against his desk.

“Well. I'll certainly look into this. Don't try to go up there again until I do some research,” Kisuke said decisively. “Miss Akemi, you should probably come to Karakura this weekend. Other than that, how are things going?”

Yoruichi spoke before Homura could even open her mouth to politely end the call. “Akemi's friends are _adorable_.”

“Oho~? Do tell.”

Homura sighed and resigned herself to listening to gossip. At least she had cookies to nibble on.

§ x § x §

Homura strode up the school path, trying to act more confident and normal than she felt. Hitomi and Sayaka stood together and looked up as Yoruichi trotted up between them and wove between their legs. Hitomi cooed and knelt to pet the cat as Homura and Sayaka made eye contact. Homura stared evenly. Sayaka looked uncomfortable.

Sayaka awkwardly raised a hand to scratch the back of her head. “Uh, yo. Sorry about yest--”

Face stubborn, Homura held out a fist. Hitomi glanced up at them from the corners of her eyes, then tactfully focused on the cat. Wary, Sayaka reached out. Homura dropped a candy into her palm. Sayaka looked up in surprise.

A peace offering.

Homura's face went even more stubborn, with a questioning tilt. _Are we good?_

Sayaka closed her hand and pulled the candy close. She smiled wanly and laughed. “Thanks, Stranger Danger.” _We're good._

Homura nodded. “You are welcome.” _Good._

Madoka ran up panting just as the warning bell rang. She stopped and leaned with her hands on her knees. “I made it. I made it!”

Homura's lips quirked up and Hitomi and Sayaka laughed.

“Did you oversleep, Kaname?” Hitomi asked.

Madoka glanced from Sayaka to Homura and laughed awkwardly. “Y-yeah, actually. I had a hard time falling asleep.”

Sayaka looked away, downcast. “Me, too,” she sighed, rubbing one eye tiredly.

Homura sighed softly. “Let's go to class. If you stay awake until lunch time, you can have some of the cookies my friend in Tokyo sent me.”

The blue-haired girl snapped upright with stars in her eyes. “Cookies?”

“Homemade cookies,” Homura murmured with a slight curve of her lips as she stepped toward the school, Hitomi at her side.

Sayaka pumped a fist. “Aw yeah, homemade cookies!”

Madoka and Hitomi laughed.

“Oh, my, Akemi,” Hitomi said teasingly, eyes mirthful. “You are quite the persuasive stranger.”

“Akemi's the _best_ Stranger Danger!”

“A-ah, I don't think that's something you're supposed to be happy about, Sayaka... ahaha,” Madoka said weakly.

§ x § x §

Hitomi bowed out of their afternoon hangout because of extracurricular duties that day. When Madoka and Sayaka were alone with Homura and Yoruichi on the path away from school, Homura turned away from their usual route to the outdoor café.

“Eh? Where are you going, Homura?” Madoka asked.

Homura stared at them for a minute, seeming to debate her answer. She slowly admitted, “I need to hunt the Witch whose Familiars we encountered yesterday. Otherwise, it could kill someone.”

Madoka froze in trepidation. “You... you said there's a another magical girl who can do that, didn't you?” She didn't want her friend to risk herself. It felt selfish, wanting someone else to walk into danger, but the thought of Homura being injured was awful.

“I don't know if she knows about this Witch,” Homura said after a long pause. “Take Yoruichi to the café with you.”

“You expect us to sit around eating cake while you run off to fight monsters?!” Sayaka demanded.

“Yes.”

Sayaka's face scrunched up in frustration. Madoka bit her lip. She did not like this one bit. “What-- what if you get hurt? What if you need help?”

Homura looked her in the eye. “I will be fine. I have a lot of experience and it is not a particularly powerful Witch.”

“But still--”

“It would give me greater peace of mind to know you are safely sitting at the café,” Homura argued. “If you got injured because I made a single mistake... I couldn't bear it.”

“O-oh.” That made sense. Madoka looked down guiltily for a minute, then looked up at her new friend. Her brave friend. Recognizing that her absence would be more useful than her presence was painful, but.... Her face firmed. “I'll wait for you at the café.”

“Why?”

Sayaka scoffed. “So we don't spend all night wondering if you got yourself killed, _duh_.”

Homura stared at them both for a long time. Madoka and Sayaka both made their faces more stubborn. Homura sighed. “Fine.” She looked stern. “Don't follow me.”

Both girls nodded a bit like they had been scolded. Homura looked like she was assessing them, then nodded once and set out with purposeful strides. They watched her grow smaller in the distance.

“C'mon, Madoka,” Sayaka said unhappily.

Madoka glanced at her sideways and saw the tense, almost jerky way her friend adjusted her school bag's strap. “You want to follow her,” Madoka observed softly.

“Well, duh,” Sayaka griped. “I don't like sitting back. But... she kinda has a point, I guess. I don't like it, but I don't wanna distract her, you know?” She kicked a pebble and mumbled, “Sometimes Kyōsuke will ask me to leave if he's learning a new song because me being there is just enough distraction to mess him up. So I get it. But I hate it.”

“Ah.” Madoka took a deep breath and looked determined. “Let's get to the café like we promised.”

The afternoon at the café was increasingly stressful. They couldn't focus much on homework and their appetites were nonexistent. Hours passed with excruciating slowness. Yoruichi was their only substantive distraction. The setting sun was turning everything warm orange when Homura appeared and approached their table with an uncertain scowl.

“You're okay!” Madoka gushed happily.

“You had us worried, there, Stranger Danger,” Sayaka said with relief. “How'd it go?”

Homura sat and looked frustrated. “I couldn't find it.”

“Oh?” Sayaka finally snatched the strawberry off Madoka's untouched cake. “World's worst game of hide-and-go-seek?”

“Yes,” Homura sighed disappointedly.

“Maybe the other magical girl got it?” Sayaka ventured, rolling the strawberry around in her cheek.

“Maybe.” She didn't look convinced.

“But you're safe. That's all that matters,” Madoka said decisively. “Do you both want to come to my house for dinner?”

Sayaka perked up. “Aw, yeah! Your dad is the best cook!”

Homura's face relaxed. “I'd like that.”

Madoka beamed. Maybe she couldn't be directly useful, but she would try her best to support her new friend any way she could.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sayaka is surprisingly difficult to write.
> 
> I have some important re-certifications coming up for work so don't be terribly surprised if more than two weeks pass before I next post something. Hopefully classes will mostly be review. *crosses fingers*


	46. FÜNFUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've been pretty down lately, but your reviews cheer me up a lot. Thanks, guys. :)
> 
> Notice! Thanks to Nitewind, this story now has its own page on TVTropes! Since I can't link on ff.n, I guess it'd be easiest to just say to Google the story title plus “tvtropes”. Go read the page or poke at it with additions if you want! I contributed a lot to Nitewind based on my notes, but I'm sure there's stuff I missed and tinkering to be done. Ahhh, I'm so flattered by this! I never thought I would manage to write something that would inspire someone to make a TVTropes page about it! *hands on cheeks, eyes sparkling*
> 
> @Long-Winded Guest: I can't discuss things with you if you don't sign in! I could write a novella about my feelings about the end of Bleach manga lol. And no, the final arc won't be in this. I might slip in references to it to entertain myself-- I use a chunk of Quincy info in this chapter even-- but YWCH and his Merry Madmen ain't bustin' in to steal the show. My plot is dense enough as it is. (quiet sobbing)
> 
> Regarding IchiRuki v IchiHime, since this seems to be a huge concern???: At this point, my plan is to do the equal-opportunity ship teasing Kubo did up until the last manga chapter, if I do anything at all. I don't consider any of the three among my “main” characters and don't really intend to go in-depth with them. Caveat: I didn't think I'd delve into Isshin as much as I have so who knows where the characters will take me?
> 
> I don't often glom onto one set-in-stone OTP when I read or watch things. Characters and relationships are like Legos to me: You can combine them in so many interesting ways. Following the directions on the box is fun but experimenting has its merits. ;)

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**FÜNFUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Before school Saturday morning, Homura was the first to arrive at their usual meeting spot. She tensely waited as first Hitomi and then Sayaka walked up, but didn't relax until Madoka bounced up the path. Glad her friend had come early, she greeted Madoka and quietly said, “May I ask a favor of you, Madoka?”

Madoka looked up from scritching Yoruichi's ears with a happy expression that said she was pleased her new friend had asked. “Sure!”

“I have personal business to attend to back in Tokyo tomorrow,” Homura fibbed. “Do you think your parents would mind if you kept Yoruichi at your house until Monday? I can give you her things at my house after school. I could take her with me, but it's a long ride to spend in a small crate.”

Madoka's eyes practically sparkled. “Oh! I'm sure they wouldn't mind! I mean, I'll text Papa to be sure, but I'd love it!” She picked up the cat and cuddled her. “Do you wanna visit me and play with Tatsuya instead of being caged up on a train forever?” she cooed. She giggled when Yoruichi purred and nuzzled her neck.

Homura relaxed. Bodyguard successfully assigned.

Morning classes breezed by. Passing off Yoruichi with her pet supplies in her crate went smoothly, though Madoka whispered a quiet worry about the Witch at large. Homura urged her to stay home if possible and stick to populated areas if not. Leaving her was difficult, but at least she had a competent protector.

Homura was surprised when her phone rang halfway through the train ride south. She rarely received calls these days.

“Hey, Homura,” Karin said pleasantly. “Ichi-nii's home. You know when you'll get here?”

“A-ah, um.” Homura peered out the window at the current station. “Maybe two hours?”

“Cool. See you soon!” _Beep_.

Homura stared at the phone for awhile and pondered how such a normal thing had come to be strange.

When Homura rounded the corner into the main lobby of Old Karakura Train Station as the sun was just beginning to set, it was to the sight of all three Kurosaki siblings sitting on a bench sharing an open box of Pocky. Or Ichigo holding it out of his sisters' reach, to be more accurate. Both girls were playfully trying to get to it without standing. Ichigo noticed Homura first.

“Hey, Stopwatch!” he called casually, grinning as he kept the Pocky box high above his head. “Anything interesting happen on the trip down?”

“No,” Homura murmured as she approached the siblings and stood in front of them, awkward.

“You sure travel light,” Karin quipped. Yuzu _ooh_ ed her agreement, noting Homura wasn't carrying anything.

“That shield thing's a really cool trick,” Ichigo said as Karin launched herself up to get the Pocky. He dodged, drew his arm straight down, then offered the box to Homura as his sister squealed and toppled over the back of the bench. “Pocky?” he asked innocently, the remains of an earlier cookie stick dangling from the corner of his mouth.

A reluctant smile turned her lips upwards. Homura hesitantly withdrew a stick. She raised a brow. “Ah. Crushed almond?”

Yuzu beamed. “Mr. Urahara said he thought you might like them!”

Homura stared at the snack and paused to think. To know that, Urahara-- the other Urahara-- must have written down even her choice of marzipan from the last timeline. Just how detailed were the man's notes? Was he trying to send her a message? Was she overthinking this? Was he just trying to be nice? Was it a complete coincidence?

“Um, do you not want it?” Yuzu asked meekly.

Homura snapped back to reality. “Ah, no-- I mean, that's not it. Just thinking. Thank you.”

Ichigo watched her with his head tilted. Karin threw herself over his shoulder from behind and snagged a stick of Pocky from the box, discovered she had no leverage to go back, and just stayed draped over her brother to munch her snack with her legs hanging a few inches in the air.

“Do you _mind?_ ” Ichigo drawled.

“Don't mind if I do,” Karin said sweetly.

Yuzu giggled and took a stick for herself.

§ x § x §

Isshin spoiled them all with an early dinner at a teppanyaki restaurant that evening. It was the loudest dinner party Homura had ever been part of. Halfway through, she started eyeing the waitstaff and hoping they wouldn't be tossed out. The servers seemed resigned, though, so they'd probably had a Kurosaki Experience before. She hadn't known it was possible to duel with chopsticks, but every Kurosaki except Yuzu had. While bickering. At high volume. Despite Homura's upbringing screaming it was a _massive_ faux pas. Yuzu and Orihime laughed through it while sniping food among the tangle and Chad was mellow as always, but Homura thought she'd do best huddling off to one side of the chaos like Uryū was. Unfortunately, she was caught between Ichigo and Karin making a victory gesture at each other over a choice piece of meat and Isshin bawling to the heavens that it had been _grilled to perfection but our cruel children stole it from Daddy, Masakiiiii!_ Yuzu caught Homura's eye and mirthfully made hand gestures as though demonstrating. Soon, Homura was tentatively sneaking in to grab good pieces while the others played-- and their bickering _was_ perhaps ninety percent dramatic play. Homura was beginning to be able to tell the difference.

She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. At the very least, it was weird. She thought. Was it really? Maybe her quiet, serious family had been the weird ones, back before. Who knew? She rarely visited other households to have much frame of reference.

Their rowdy mob gradually quieted as they approached Urahara Shop. No one truly wanted to talk business, but they slipped into business mode anyway as though proximity to the store enveloped them in gravity. Tessai greeted them quietly and escorted them all to the back room, where Jinta and Ururu sat on either side of Kisuke, who was poring over files from an SD card on a tablet. Several more SD cards were lined up on the table. At its other end, Tōshirō expressionlessly contemplated the steaming surface of a mug of green tea. All but Kisuke looked up as they entered.

Karin plopped down next to Tōshirō. “Hey, Tōsh. Who gave Sandal-Hat the nerd-candy and what's in it?”

The captain dipped his head at her. “That would be me. And those would be classified research materials from the Great Spirit Library in Seireitei.”

“Wait, dead-people libraries use computers?” she asked.

Her friend scoffed. “Yes. But a good deal of the records I sought were so old they only existed in hard copies so I had to get Yamamoto's permission to take Urahara's secure phone in there and take pictures of every... single... page and compile them.”

Karin gasped dramatically. “Tōsh! You've been holding out on me! I didn't know a geezer like you knew how to use newfangled technology for anything but talk and text!” She leaned in close and slyly stage-whispered, “When you say you're texting reports, are you really playing shinigami game apps on your shinigami phone? What kind of games do dead people play? Hangman?”

Tōshirō rolled his eyes powerfully.

“Most of the other shinigami seem confused by computers and stuff,” Ichigo said curiously.

“The rank and file would be. They're not common in Soul Society,” Tōshirō explained. He glanced around, very obviously realizing he was being used to stall. He looked at Kisuke, who met his eyes and gestured with his chin to go on before turning back to the tablet. Tōshirō sighed. “My division does a lot of reconnaissance, investigation, and Living World infiltration. Matsumoto and I are far more familiar with the information processing functions of Soul Phones than many of the high-ranking officers. Less than Twelfth, but better than Second. Soi Fon's old-fashioned when it comes to information management. The overall bureaucracy is all done by hand, so seated officers of the Tenth use the Soul Phones as aides for reference for reports. Other divisions haven't caught on to the convenience.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Eighth maintains the Library and Ninth publishes the newsletter, so they know about textual stuff, at least.”

Karin pressed her hands to her cheeks as her face turned mockingly gleeful. “There's a _dead-people newsletter?_ Where do I sign up?!”

The young shinigami looked heavenward for patience.

“Find anything interesting?” Ichigo asked.

“I dunno. Can you keep your mouth shut about it?” Tōshirō droned.

Karin winced as her brother looked like a kicked puppy. “Harsh, Tōsh.”

“True, Karin.”

“I think my children have learned their lesson about intel,” Isshin drawled with a glance at each of his children, who flushed and avoided his eyes. “Share?”

Tōshirō sighed. “I still have a large swath to go through, but I found sporadic records of strange girls with shinigami-like powers of purification and Soul Burial. Old reports of skirmishes between them and patrolling shinigami. Back in the old days before Twelfth adopted its scientific, communications, and world-monitoring functions, the Thirteen Divisions had a fair number of shinigami go missing in action. At the time, there was suspicion that these girls had somehow stolen shinigami powers from a segment of the missing shinigami. That they were the reason why the shinigami went missing in the first place. It turns out it's actually one of the reasons a shinigami sharing their powers with a human is-- was-- such a dire crime.” Many glanced at Ichigo, recalling Rukia Kuchiki's original sharing of her powers with him in a life-threatening situation-- and the arrest, attempted execution, and rescue debacle that had followed it.

“So, what, the shinigami went for summary execution after jumping to conclusions?” Uryū snorted derisively. “Typical.”

An irritated scowl furrowed the captain's brow. “I hate the history as much as you do. Soul Society changes slowly by its very nature, but we _are_ progressing. If you study human history, you find that such tendencies pervade many human civilizations even to the modern day. _Every_ society has skeletons in its closet. Even Quincy.”

“The Quincy--” Uryū interrupted.

“Speaking of Quincy,” Kisuke said mildly as he set the tablet down and looked at Uryū with interest. “What did you find in your research, Mr. Ishida?”

Uryū's jaw worked silently for a minute. Then he sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I looked in the genealogies for Quincy who died before age twenty. Proportionally speaking, more girls died in that age bracket than boys. I cross-referenced the dates with the histories. About two thirds of the female deaths were definitively listed as due to illness and encounters with Hollows, hostile humans, or shinigami-- roughly the same number of female deaths as male deaths, which makes sense. The extra third of the deaths of Quincy girls is further split into rough thirds. Overall, about one ninth documented deaths in childbirth in the late teens, one ninth disappearances presumed dead, and one ninth undetermined causes-- just being found dead, usually without injuries or illness, often when away from home by themselves.”

“My, my,” Kisuke murmured. “About twenty-two percent of female Quincy deaths in childhood and adolescence that _could_ support the Quincy magical girl theory. That's over one fifth. Fairly significant.” He tapped his fan against his chin. “Did you calculate a margin of error?”

“Plus or minus about seven percent.”

Kisuke hummed in thought. “Were there any location or population distribution patterns?”

“I haven't compared locations, but population distribution? Yes, actually,” Uryū said with a frown down at his notes. “Eighty-nine percent of the mysterious deaths and disappearances I've found were among Gemischt girls. Only eleven percent were from among the Echt. For all other confirmed deaths, the numbers are around sixty-forty due to there being more Gemischt than Echt. A twenty-nine point deviation is suspect, in my opinion.”

“Gem-what? Ett?” Ichigo asked, confused. “The hell, Ishida. I don't speak Russian.”

The Quincy glared. “German.”

“Whatever.”

Uryū twitched and looked like he wanted to throw something at Ichigo.

Yuzu raised her hand like she was in class. Ever the peacemaker, she said, “Umm, I've never heard those words before, Uryū. Can you explain, please?”

Uryū sighed. “Echt is the term for those with an unbroken line of Quincy among all direct ancestors. Gemischt is the term for those whose bloodlines are broken up with non-Quincy direct ancestors.”

Karin raised her brows and drawled, “Like purebred and mixed breed dogs?”

“Or nobility?” Yuzu quickly added before her sister could be subjected to more than a murderous glare.

Uryū gave Yuzu a flat look that said _I see what you did there_ , but he didn't verbally acknowledge her ploy. Instead, he continued, “Echt generally had much more social and financial power than Gemischt. Gemischt often took subordinate roles to Echt. On the battlefield, Echt were their commanders. Off the battlefield, Gemischt were often house servants, laborers, et cetera.” He sighed unhappily. “Something of a feudal system. The basic structure followed Quincy culture as it expanded globally.”

“Meaning Gemischt girls might have stronger _wants_ ,” Isshin said thoughtfully.

“And be more vulnerable to something offering to grant a wish,” Chad murmured.

Kisuke looked fascinated. “Did you notice anything about the relevant Echt girls that would set them apart from the others?”

“Not that I saw,” Uryū answered. “I can look into that more.”

“Please do. And plot locations, if you could.” Kisuke scratched the stubble on his chin. “Was there anything else in the histories that would support the assertion that Quincy girls contracted?”

Uryū frowned and looked down at his neat notes. “About half of the girls in that mystery segment were noted to have been vaguely rebellious, or to have suddenly changed behavior, or to have been punished for sneaking out unescorted not long before their deaths or disappearances. Nothing more specific than that, I'm afraid. Many didn't have notes like that at all.”

“Proportions?” Isshin asked.

The Quincy glanced at him. “More notes about erratic tendencies and misbehavior among the strange deaths than among the rest of the deaths. More notes about Gemischt girls than Echt girls. Then again, the histories were written by Echt Quincy who may have... obscured some details about anything embarrassing by fabricating illness or injury, or omitting any notes at all if a girl did something... scandalous.”

“What, like a fancypants purebred Quincy pulling a Romeo and Juliet and prancing off into the sunset with a normal human?” Karin asked with a smirk as she leaned her chin on her elbow.

“...Exactly.” Uryū looked like agreeing with her pained him.

“Well,” Kisuke said decisively. “For now we can at least say that the Quincy evidence doesn't definitively rule out the possibility of Quincy magical girls.” He clapped once to close the subject and turned to Homura. “Did you bring me anything, Miss Akemi?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly. She manifested her shield, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and passed it across the table. Face neutral, she explained, “Yoruichi had me buy a map and draw a rough boundary where she thinks the spell is set. At least a section of it.”

“Spell?” asked Orihime.

“There's some kind of kidō over Asunaro. We have to figure it out before we can poke around up there,” Kisuke said absently. Looking at the map, he observed, “Huh. Right on the city limits, eh?”

“That mean something to you, Sandal-Hat?” Ichigo asked.

Kisuke looked up and beamed sunnily. “Nope! Just interesting!” He carefully folded the map and set it down. “How are things proceeding this time, Miss Akemi? Is Yoruichi having any effect?”

“Yes,” Homura replied coolly. “She is an excellent distraction and talking point with the other girls.” The magical girl looked down for a moment, debating internally, then looked up and hesitantly offered, “She gives... sound advice.”

“I'm glad to hear that!” Kisuke said with a grin. “Now, when we talked on the phone, she mentioned that she was able to guide you through rudimentary healing kidō on that boy who is the usual cause of Miss Miki making a healing wish, correct?”

Homura nodded seriously. “She said you would probably teach me something more this weekend.”

“Quite!” Kisuke's grin widened with vaguely sadistic eagerness. “I'm going to give you and the girls a crash course on healing kidō tomorrow morning!”

“Oh, God,” Ichigo and Isshin said in the exact same dreadful tone.

Homura glanced at them with trepidation. Isshin noticed and ran a hand through his hair. “Kisuke is a genius--”

“Thank you!” said genius chirped.

“--And his methods of teaching can be extremely effective but... ah....”

“More stick than carrot,” Ichigo said drily. “More _whip_ than carrot.”

“You _wound_ me,” Kisuke pouted.

“Whatever. You haven't told us what _you've_ found out, Sandal-Hat,” Ichigo said suspiciously.

The shopkeeper hummed and gestured vaguely with his fan. “A lot of scientific jargon, but it boils down to something being very wrong with the distribution of spiritual density around Mitakihara. I don't want to get too deep into the details there because I'm still working with hypotheticals. The information Captain Hitsugaya brought should help me fill some of that in.” He nodded his gratitude at the shinigami, who nodded back. “I may have to craft a ruse for Yamamoto to get some more data from Twelfth for me to add to the files from the last timeline, though. Now, as far as magical girls themselves are concerned: My experiments with Karin and Yuzu this week have been quite edifying. The magical girl soul seems to function with very fine differences to the shinigami soul. Weapon summoning or generation appears to be an interesting mix of shinigami shikai and Quincy generation of spirit weapons. Magical girl flash step seems to be a hybrid of shinigami shunpo with Quincy Hirenkyaku-- very much like the Bringer Light of Fullbringers, but without the Hollow reiatsu and visible flash. I want to study this in more depth before coming to any conclusions. My working hypothesis is something to do with the involvement of the living body as the focus of magical girl powers instead of fighting as a pure spirit. It's all nebulous but very fascinating.”

“Nerrrrrrrrrrd,” Karin droned. Her face was pleasantly amused, though.

“I hope I'm your _favorite_ nerd,” Kisuke cooed with one hand pressed to his cheek in mock-shyness, the other hand fluttering his fan in front of his face.

“No comment~”

“Awwwww~”

§ x § x §

The meeting wound down after that. Karin and Yuzu cheerfully dragged Homura out the door and down the street ahead of the rest of the group heading back to Kurosaki Clinic. They trooped into the kitchen, shoved a pan of brownies at their friend and plopped three plates and silverware on top of them, loaded their own arms with drinks and ice cream, and bore a confused Homura upstairs for a sleepover during which they had no plans to sleep anytime soon. Homura was initially reluctant to talk, so Karin and Yuzu slid into easy gossip that didn't require much response from her if she didn't feel like it. The sisters related Kisuke's weird tests through the past week, chatted about their school friends, and eventually used that transition to coax Homura into telling them the mundane but pleasant things that she had done with her once-and-again friends.

Karin's eyes _gleamed_ at the words _Midnight the Conqueror_. Yoruichi would probably be hearing a lot of that title.

The girls demolished the sweets and finally drifted off to sleep around two. Homura was the last to succumb, too comfortable to bother moving to turn out the light. She drowsily watched Karin's brow and fingers twitch as she dreamed while Yuzu clung to the cake server and muttered to it grumpily. It was... peaceful. Elsewhere in the house, Ichigo's three friends were steady beacons on the floor below; the burning moonlight of the Kurosaki men-- one fire bright, one fire dark-- was banked and warm in sleep in the rooms to either side of the sisters' bedroom. Homura had forgotten what it felt like to be surrounded by friendly magic and not feel caged, stifled, or threatened-- to not have to obsess over which “Homura” the people around her knew _this time_. She could just... relax. Though she was very sleepy, her bone-deep, constant tiredness felt lessened somewhat.

 _What an odd juxtaposition_ , she thought distantly. She immediately forgot the thought. Just as she floated away, Homura wondered how long it had been since she last felt so safe.

§ x § x §

Homura jolted awake at the slam of the window next door and a shout from outside. Karin opened her eyes just enough to target and grab her shoulder while Yuzu sat up and yawned. Isshin's voice bawled outside; Ichigo's window slammed open, his voice yelled something angry, and the window slammed shut again.

Typical Kurosaki morning madness. Right. She needed to get used to that.

Following another lively breakfast, the three magical girls walked to Urahara Shop together. Tessai escorted them to the back room and served tea at the table. The girls waited for Kisuke in silent boredom. None of them bothered turning around when he wandered up behind them, whistling, so they all nearly jumped out of their skins when he sashayed past them and dumped what looked like a bare-muscled human body on the table with a thud and a rattle of teacups. Yuzu squealed and flailed backwards. Karin and Homura leaned back and looked down in horror.

“Welcome to Healing 101!”

“Holy fuck, did you _skin_ someone?!” Karin shrieked.

“Who, me?” Kisuke asked with an excessively innocent expression. “Of course not! This is my good friend, Mr. Monk!” He bent down, grabbed the body's wrist, and made it wave a greeting.

Homura was no stranger to gruesome bodies but this was the last place she had expected to encounter one. Her mouth opened and closed without sound as she tried to find words. “Wh-- What? What?”

Kisuke grinned sunnily and dropped the body's arm. “It's short for Ho _munc_ ulus! He'll be _your_ friend, too!”

“It is _a skinless human body_ ,” Karin ground out, looking at Kisuke sideways as though he had gone insane.

“No, no-- Mr. Monk is a gigai with transparent skin and subcutaneous fat to best display internal anatomy.” Kisuke waved his fan at the body, face and gestures goofy. “Don't worry-- he's just a medical dummy. A really detailed one. That can bleed. And has a functioning autonomic nervous system. And a rudimentary reiryoku system akin to a normal human's. But no consciousness.”

The girls' faces cycled through many different emotions. After a delay to process and really look at the gigai, Yuzu held her hand in front of her mouth and said, “Oh, my God, it's _breathing_.”

“I _did_ just say he has a functioning autonomic nervous system,” Kisuke said gleefully. “That and the reiryoku are what make Mr. Monk so useful!”

Karin calmed down and got grumpy. “You're such a goddamn troll, Sandal-Hat.”

Kisuke giggled behind his fan. He then strolled to the opposite side of the table, slung a long art tube off his back, pulled out some odd contraption, and unfolded it into an easel from which a stack of posters unfurled. The girls looked at the top image for a moment, but Kisuke stepped to the side and slapped his folded fan into his hand. “All right! Before we begin, I'd like to summarize my observations of you girls regarding healing.”

“Joy,” Karin droned.

“You magical girls appear to be excellent at healing yourselves-- a curiosity in itself, as shinigami can have difficulty with that. You can heal other magical girls and injured shinigami with diminished effectiveness or efficiency, but it's still within your abilities.” He paused and tilted his head toward Homura. “My sample size is admittedly small. Do you have any observations to add, Miss Akemi?”

Homura frowned. “Some magical girls have greater healing abilities than others. For example, Sayaka Miki's wish to heal someone enhanced her capacity for healing of herself and others.”

Kisuke looked fascinated. “There is a correlation between wish and abilities?”

“Yes.” She paused thoughtfully. “Allegedly. I don't know how far to trust the Incubator's explanations of powers now.”

Tapping his fan against his chin, Kisuke asked, “Can you give me some examples? If you know any, that is.”

Homura nodded. “Mami Tomoe contracted when the Incubator approached her in the wreckage of the car accident that killed her parents.”

“ _Asshole_ ,” Karin sneered.

“I found an article about it once. She was trapped in the back seat with serious internal injuries. Anyway, she didn't want to die. She never told me her exact wish, but the Incubator once said her abilities with magic ribbons stem from her desire to be 'tied to life'.”

Karin crossed her arms and skeptically said, “That sounds kinda....”

“Abstract,” Kisuske finished when she couldn't find a word.

Homura shrugged. “Sakura's wish for people to believe her father's preaching gave her a power the Incubator calls 'enchantment'. It's mostly like... a boost in persuasiveness. Tomoe once told me Sakura tries to avoid using it since her father....” Homura sighed. “I think she must use it unconsciously when she manages to rent hotels without an adult, though. She sometimes has the ability to create illusions of herself in battle, but I've only seen it very rarely and very briefly, usually when things are particularly dire. She has a fire aspect but mostly relies on her segmented spear.” She noted Kisuke's interest and paused. He gestured for her to continue. “Then Miki. The Incubator said outright that her extremely advanced healing powers stem from making a wish to heal. Her main attributes appear to be water and music, but she relies almost exclusively on her cutlasses. I don't know if the musical aspect is... innate or artificial, I suppose.”

“What about Madoka?” Yuzu asked.

Homura frowned. “I... don't know. Her wishes are always made out of... concern or sympathy. Her Soul Gem looks like a teardrop when she's transformed. She uses a bow and arrows and her magic is associated with roses. I don't know how those could relate.”

“What color?” asked Kisuke.

“Excuse me?”

“What color roses?”

Confused, Homura replied, “Pink.”

“Light or dark?”

“Light?”

“Ah,” he said with understanding. “In Western flower languages, light pink roses can signify several things. Among them: grace, sweetness, gentleness, admiration, and _sympathy_. Medium pink is associated with cheering people up-- especially those who are grieving or healing.” Kisuke tilted his head. “There's also the Western association of the bow and arrows with love-- Cupid's bow.”

Homura stared with blank surprise. “Oh.”

Karin smirked at Homura and leaned on one elbow. “Sure sounds like Madoka.”

“Yes,” Homura murmured as she looked down at her hands, face unusually soft.

“Does degree of power correlate to effectiveness of healing, in your experience?” Kisuke asked Homura.

Homura looked at the ceiling in thought for a long moment. “I'm not sure. Tomoe can heal, but doesn't do it often. Most of the times she has, she's repaired damage I did to the Incubator. Sakura... I haven't seen her actively heal someone, but she can... repair or preserve Miki's and Tomoe's bodies if they are recovered when they become Witches. I'm not sure if that's healing or something else. Both of them are on the high end of the power scale. Miki's magic is average, but she's the best healer.”

“ _Interesting_ ,” Kisuke declared. “Anyway, back on track! Your greatest challenge appears to be the healing of normal humans. I personally think it's more due to a lack of education than a lack of ability.” He glanced at Homura. “Did Yoruichi tell you about how physical bodies get weird with spiritual healing?”

“Yes, though not in great detail,” Homura replied. “She had me focus on sensing Kamijō's soul as it overlaps with his body and sensing where the... reiatsu... felt weak and dim in his hand, then applying my magic carefully while imagining the places that felt weak as paper I had to glue to cardboard. Then she had me pour in some extra magic while willing healing and leave it to 'take' for a few days. Miki mentioned that he improved some, so something about it worked.” She tilted her head. “Yoruichi said she would leave the explanation for _why_ it worked only a little and how to do more to you. She has had me studying the anatomy of the arm and hand in the mean time.”

“Excellent.” A pleased smile curled Kisuke's lips. He snapped his fan closed and slapped it into his empty palm. “Okay, students! The issue at hand boils down to most spiritual healing working on and through the subject's soul, not the physical body itself.”

“Then why could Kyōko heal the empty bodies?” Yuzu asked with confusion.

“I have no idea!” Kisuke declared with a smile. “I don't even know if what she did was _healing_. I'll investigate that anomaly later. Moving on. While the human body has a great potential for repairing itself, it has its limits. Healing is also tied to the subject's soul and its bond with their physical body. The stronger the connection, the more the resiliency of the soul can boost the physical body's ability to repair itself.”

Yuzu and Karin _ooh_ ed in understanding while Homura focused on Kisuke with intense concentration.

“Oddly enough, some of the living actually identified these connections in depth before shinigami did,” Kisuke continued. “The simplest to explain with a visual aid is the concept of chakra. It is a system that describes the flow of spiritual energy through the human body, strengthening it and occasionally allowing abilities considered near-miraculous from a human standpoint--”

“Have you been watching too much Naruto again, Sandal-Hat?” Karin asked drily.

“ _Nooo_ ,” he replied with a pout. “Besides, there is _no such thing_ as too much.”

Karin rolled her eyes. “Nerd.”

“The battle techniques are quite creative. Crafting similar kidō is quite entertai--”

Homura cleared her throat. Her face was bland as though she had done nothing when everyone glanced at her.

Kisuke coughed into his fist. “Right. Yes. Moving on.” He sharply slapped his folded fan against the poster on the easel like an instructor's pointer. The image was a diagram of a human body with a vertical column of large colored circles stacked from head to groin. “Each major focus of spiritual energy is directly correlated with the main nerve ganglia-- ah, clusters, I suppose-- that emanate from the human spinal column.” He flipped to the next page for a minute to show them an anatomical cross-section of where bundles of nerves exited the spine, then flipped back to the first page. “These are also the main anchors of the soul to the physical body. By far the most important of these is _Anahata_ , the heart chakra.” He slapped the fan against the circle on the diagram's chest. “Students, what else is located here?”

Karin and Yuzu chorused, “The Chain of Fate.”

“Correct!” Kisuke drew back from the easel and tapped his fan in his empty hand as he lectured. “This is partly why a Hollow is said to have lost its _heart_. As we know, this is the place where the human soul is most directly tied to the body. Ancient Hindus with high spiritual power were able to determine this chakra point had that duty and figured out that mastery of meditation focusing on it enables one to leave and enter the body at will. Astral projection, in modern terms. To a degree, anyway. The concept has been embellished in fiction and oral tradition.” He looked at Homura. “Relevant for your project, Miss Akemi, they also determined this chakra is associated with, among other things, the actions of the hands.”

“Oooh,” Yuzu cooed as Homura's eyes went sharp.

“Now, various sects and scriptures identify hundreds to thousands of minor chakra points elsewhere throughout the body. Most of them are correct to at least some degree, excepting some clerical errors by scribes-- the discoverers had varying power levels and techniques that made them notice different things and group themselves together into separate sects, is all.” Kisuke flipped to a third poster that resembled a human outline completely filled with circles of varying sizes, many quite tiny. “What Yoruichi was walking you through, Miss Akemi, was a simplified version of thinking of the foci as stitches holding two identically-shaped pieces of cloth together. In alignment, I mean. When stitched properly, each piece of cloth reinforces the other. The soul is stronger than the body to some degree and is thus the reinforcing agent.” With his free hand, he fished around in his haori and whipped out an object that was two differently colored handkerchiefs sewn together, one thicker than the other. He tucked his fan in a pocket and made a show of tugging and twisting the cloth, demonstrating that it was strong. “Now, sometimes physical damage comes along-- be it illness or injury-- that is serious enough to damage those connections.” Kisuke lay the cloth on the table, pulled a scalpel from a pocket, and sliced open the stitches near one corner of the cloth, then picked it up and jerked the corners apart, popping more stitches. He held it up and wrenched it around more, showing that the separated portion of the cloth was more flimsy, somewhat ragged, and not exactly aligned. “As you can see, when lacking the extra reinforcement from the soul, the body is less resilient. It can be repaired by itself to an extent, but it's more delicate.”

“Dude. Are you saying people who are sick or paralyzed or something are that way because their souls aren't powerful enough to fix them?” Karin asked skeptically. “Because that would be shitty.” Beside her, Homura frowned and unconsciously lay a hand over her once-flawed heart.

“No, no, you misunderstand,” Kisuke answered. “No matter the power or strength of the soul, it's the integrity of the anchors that matters most because the soul is _always_ more powerful and inclined to healing than the body. It remains poorly understood, but some diseases and injuries compromise the anchors as well as the physical body, so even a powerful person with good anchors could succumb if the damage outweighs other factors. Someone with great spiritual power but compromised anchors may not recover from injury and illness as well as a much less powerful person whose anchors are perfect. Consider serious bone injuries as a metaphor. If a bone suffers a complex fracture and receives no treatment-- no support-- it can heal mangled, if it heals at all. If it is placed in a cast, it will likely heal better. But if pins or bolts are placed surgically to hold the bone pieces in very fine alignment, the bone may heal to nearly-normal status. The degree of reinforcement can make a significant difference in outcome.” He pursed his lips and rolled his head, thinking. “Let's go with another metaphor. Consider a house that is properly secured to its small, simple foundation and a mansion poorly secured to its large, fancy foundation. Assuming otherwise equal workmanship on both houses, which one is most likely to sustain less damage in an earthquake and be repaired more quickly afterward? Or more likely to stay where it is instead of being washed away in a flood?”

“The little one that's actually attached to its foundation,” Karin answered with a frown. “But... so, people who are sick or permanently disabled by something would be better if they, like... connected to their souls better?” She leaned on an elbow and gave him the side-eye. “That sounds like blamey New Age bullshit to me.”

“If what you mean to ask is if the sick or disabled can be blamed for their outcomes for lack of spiritual effort, then no,” Kisuke answered. “Barring outside interference, the degree of spiritual connection and support between a body and soul is mostly innate-- think of a physically strong person with a weak immune system and a physically weak person with a strong immune system. Third-party interference can have some effect in a way similar to a vaccine or surgery's supportive role. Base degree of connection is a roll of the dice when soul first joins body. All you can do is work with what you were granted by the cosmic lottery, as it were. Human ability to repair one's own anchors is extremely limited, no matter the level of power, and is especially limited when a chronic condition continually erodes the tethers. Spiritual activities such as healing-focused meditation or prayer might have some effect, but results are usually negligible if the person in question has inefficient connections to begin with. And that is no fault of theirs-- it's as much of a gamble as one's genetic predispositions to illnesses are.” He looked at each of the girls and evaluated their faces. “Miss Akemi?”

Homura was frowning deeply. “If that's true-- if what you said about healing one's own physical body being so difficult is true,” she said slowly, “why am I able to rapidly heal my heart and repair my eyes on command? My physical body?” She drew her finger along her jawline and curled her hand under her chin. “Why can any magical girl heal her own physical body? Especially as automatically and intuitively as it seems to be for us?”

Kisuke pointed at her with his fan, gray eyes sharp. “ _That_ is an _excellent_ question, Miss Akemi. I have yet to study it.”

“I see.” Homura frowned down at her lap.

“Ahhh, don't sound so disappointed,” Kisuke cooed, opening his fan and waving it at her as she looked up again. “A mystery is an opportunity to learn! Now that you know of it, you'll be paying more attention when you encounter healing, will you not?”

“...Yes?”

“Good, good!” Kisuke grinned. “Who _knows_ what you might find if you apply critical thinking to the aspects of magical girlhood you've taken for granted!”

Homura tilted her head doubtfully. “I suppose.”

“You'll see, you'll see,” Kisuke chirped with more waves of his fan. “Ah. One concluding thought to wrap up the lecture thus far: Unfortunately, some physical diseases and injuries have a _chronic_ destabilizing effect on the anchors between body and soul _even if_ the anchors have been healed by an outside source. It is quite frustrating. We are still unsure why this happens in some souls and not others, but it seems to be the rule, for now.”

“What? _You_ haven't figured something out?” Karin asked. She held her hands to her cheeks and widened her eyes in feigned shock. “How can this _be?!_ ”

Faint amusement crossed the scientist's face. “Every Napoleon has his Waterloo,” he murmured. “But it is on my list of things to do more research on. I've had a busy century.” He took a deep breath. “ _Anyway_. Back to healing. Spiritual healing is mostly centered on strengthening the tethering of soul to body so the soul can support the body better. Pouring reiatsu into a spirit body with repairing or healing intent can be very effective though imperfect because it is a spirit-to-spirit correction, and the soul is nothing if not malleable. Pouring reiatsu into a physical body can help, but it is the support structure that is most effective to bolster. Consciously repairing connections and encouraging the spiritual side to enhance the physical side is the best option. It also concentrates and conserves your energy to use it most effectively. Think of applying your power like spraying water from a hose to put out a fire with and without a pressure nozzle. Focusing the water-- your power-- is more effective and not as lossy.”

The girls nodded and murmured their understanding.

Kisuke grinned. “Now for the hands-on portion of our class!” He bent and smacked his fan against the chest of the medical gigai-- over the heart chakra. “Mr. Monk and I will now teach you how to detect the connections and what playing with them does to physical anatomy.”

It was a long afternoon.

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The trickiness of those technicalities and checking and re-checking them slowed me down. Had to be careful~ ;) If I obsessed over checking it any more I would lose my mind and never post ahaha. Let me know if something seems off. It could screw up something down the road if there's a contradiction.
> 
> Someone special will be visiting next chapter~~~
> 
> Still have re-certifications and other adult junk IRL so please bear with me on timing. Thanks for your continued encouragement and support!


	47. SECHSUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, I SLAYED the most important re-certification exam. Now I have a bunch of little ones. T_T

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**SECHSUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

_I've been on worse infiltrative bodyguard assignments_ , Yoruichi thought idly on Saturday night. Sure, she had to endure an excitable toddler's grabby hands reaching for her ears and tail all afternoon, but his sister and father corrected him when he made contact and gave her pieces of chicken to reward her for her patience, so it worked out. Besides, baby giggles were highly entertaining. Thankfully, Tatsuya was equally amused by missing when she dodged creatively or pounced around. Madoka watched her play with him after dinner until she wore the toddler out enough to go to bed early.

Tomohisa had given her slivers of yet more chicken-- _score!_ \-- and murmured his sincere thanks while musing that maybe they should look into getting a cat of their own.

Yoruichi lazed among the small army of stuffed animals on the shelves in Madoka's room and watched her do homework for the rest of the evening, wondering when the girl's mother would get home from her business dinner. Her feline ears heard the rattle of the front door and muffled voices a few minutes before footsteps approached. She and Madoka looked up when the door to Madoka's room opened. Tomohisa leaned in and sheepishly asked Madoka to help him. Madoka sighed fondly and got up. Yoruichi dropped to the floor and followed, curious.

Junko Kaname was sprawled in the entryway. She was barefoot, her briefcase and discarded high heels half in and half out of the front door. To Yoruichi's feline nose, she _reeked_ of sake. Drunk as she was, her clothes and makeup were still immaculate. She just writhed a bit and grimaced as she looked up at her husband and daughter. Madoka left to get water while Tomohisa stooped to help his wife get into a sitting position. Junko's head flopped to one side as she whined a protest. Then she stilled, her eyes widened, and childlike excitement warmed her features.

“Kitty!”

“Yes, dear, Madoka is catsitting tonight,” Tomohisa explained patiently.

“Ahahaha, kitty!” Junko clumsily reached out for Yoruichi. The cat cautiously padded over and allowed herself to be petted. The drunk businesswoman cooed.

“You sound like Tatsuya,” Madoka teased as she returned from the kitchen and knelt to offer a cup. “Here. Water. I'll hold it for you.”

Junko blinked up at her daughter. She tried to take the glass herself but Madoka batted her hands away easily and put the cup to her lips. Junko drank as best she could, water dribbling down her chin. She sighed in contentment when Madoka pulled back.

“She _drinks_ like Tatsuya, too,” Madoka giggled to her father as she pulled her mother's shoes and briefcase all the way in the front door.

Junko scowled. “My s-son is too _young_ to drinks!”

“Ah-ahhhh, that's not what I--”

“Let's get you to bed, dear,” Tomohisa said gently. He took one elbow while Madoka hurried around to take the other and Yoruichi darted out of the way. Madoka and Tomohisa heaved Junko to her feet.

“I d'wanna _move_ ,” Junko moaned.

“I know, dear,” Tomohisa said. He shuffled them all around to aim for a hallway. “The dinners are running later these last few weeks,” he said neutrally. “Is something wrong?”

“ _Pigs_ ,” Junko slurred.

Tomohisa held himself more rigidly as his face went cool, but Madoka looked confused and said, “Eh?”

“ _Pigs_ ,” she repeated, then slid into a rant that distracted her from the fact that she was being compelled to walk toward her bedroom. Yoruichi trailed them and listened. “Greedy pigs. My ideas, _my_ proposals, those two _goddamn_ trustees treat me like a goddamn-- a goddamn-- seca-- secta-- ughhhhh.” Her voice and face slid into a slurred, mocking leer. “'Ohhh, Kaaaname, maybe you'sh'd g'home an' change diapers while we finish talkn businz ha ha _haaa_ ', 'don't worry 'bout keep'n up li'l ladies can't hold 'eir liquorrr,' _pigs_. Our whoh-ohhh-ooooole innernass'nal promo things is _my_ ideas, idiots. So I drunk 'em unner the table. Show _them_. _Pigs._ ”

Madoka and Tomohisa eased Junko into bed. She flopped on the mattress haphazardly and pouted up at them. “Sorry.”

Tomohisa sat on the bed and reached over to caress her cheek. “Don't be.” He smiled gently. “I'm very proud of you.” She flushed and shyly tried to pull covers up over her, but wasn't coordinated enough to figure out she was _on top of_ the covers. Tomohisa's smile gained a sharp edge. “Under the table, huh?”

Junko gave up on the sheets and flung her arms onto the pillow on either side of her head, lips curled smugly. “ _I_ stayed 'wake and din't e'en throw up,” she slurred proudly. “Unlike _some_ pigs 'oo neeeeed~ newww~ shoooo-hooooze~~~.” She snickered evilly.

Tomohisa smirked and pushed her hair from her face. “Pigs do tend to make messes of themselves,” he murmured philosophically.

Junko's giggles spawned hiccups as her eyelids drooped. Just as Tomohisa moved to stand, she grabbed for his wrist.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “Love.”

“Love you, too,” Tomohisa said as he squeezed her fingers.

Junko's smile was blissful as she immediately drifted off.

Tomohisa glanced at Madoka and gestured toward the door with his chin. She picked up Yoruichi and left the room, followed by her father. When Tomohisa had carefully closed the door, he turned to his daughter and quietly asked, “Want some hot chocolate?”

“Sure,” Madoka answered, scritching Yoruichi's chin. She tilted her head and looked at the bedroom door. “Mama has it rough, huh?”

Tomohisa loosely wrapped an arm around her shoulders and ushered her down the hall. “That she does, sometimes. But she eats snobby old men who think women should only be secretaries for breakfast. Defying their expectations is one of her life's missions. Making them squirm entertains her. It wears on her sometimes, but your mother is a very strong woman.”

Yoruichi decided Junko Kaname was her kind of woman. Drinking with her and Kūkaku would probably be highly entertaining.

Madoka looked down at Yoruichi and smiled warmly. “Mmhmm. She really is.” She looked up at her father and hopefully asked, “Do you think I can be like Mama when I grow up?”

“Of course!” Tomohisa ruffled her hair with a grin. “Don't take that to mean you have to be a hotshot businesswoman if you don't want to, though. Mama and I will be very proud if you grow up to be a young woman who can be herself while doing _whatever_ it is she loves and doesn't let the world discourage her from doing it.” He squeezed his daughter's shoulder. “Mama had lot of uphill climbing to do to get where she is today. She fought hard to accomplish her dream. Still has to fight to keep it. If you want to be like Mama, find what you love and fight to keep it. And know we'll do everything in our power to support you.”

Cheeks pink, Madoka leaned into her father's side. “Thanks, Papa,” she murmured.

§ x § x §

Late Sunday morning, Yoruichi was sprawled out on Madoka's bed, watching the girl dream with drowsy amusement. It turned to vague concern when the girl's face became troubled and her breathing labored. Then Madoka's eyes snapped open as she fearfully mumbled, “Homura?” with a breathy little gasp. Yoruichi watched the girl sleepily clinging to her stuffed bunny toy and looking around in confusion. Madoka's eyes settled on her and stared for a minute before clearing as she apparently remembered why there was a cat in her room.

Madoka dragged herself upright and stared blearily at the floral window shades. After a minute of waking up, she scrubbed her eyes with her knuckles and moaned, “Ahhh, dreams are so weird.”

She cooed good morning to Yoruichi, stretched, and staggered out of bed with a yawn. Yoruichi trotted after her as she wandered to the back door in her pajamas and found her father picking produce from the garden. He didn't need any help, so he told Madoka to go wake her mother.

The uncharacteristic devious smirk on Madoka's face surprised Yoruichi. She was instantly curious.

They went to the door from the night before. It was already ajar. Madoka slammed it open ferociously. Yoruichi peeked in. Junko had managed to get under the covers at some point in the night. Little Tatsuya was perched on top of her duvet-cocoon, lightly pounding his fists on it.

“Mama! Mama! Up! Mo'nin'! _Up!_ Maaamaaaaaa!”

Madoka marched over to the curtains and threw them wide as Yoruichi slunk along the baseboards of the room. The girl picked up her baby brother and put him on the floor. He smiled and stuck his chubby fingers in his mouth, gleefully expectant. Madoka whipped the covers off Junko and cheerfully yelled, “GOOOOOD MORNING!”

Yoruichi was hard pressed not to laugh with the siblings as Junko shrieked and flailed.

Breakfast with a hungover Junko was amusing. She was zombie-like and bleary. Madoka and Tomohisa played a game of making bizarre suggestions in reasonable voices to hear her replies. Tatsuya helpfully threw his own food at her from his high chair when she looked at her plate in confusion. Even when she began regaining her senses thanks to glorious coffee, she played along and ate the strawberries and cherry tomatoes that reached her general vicinity because Tatsuya squealed proudly whenever she did.

The Kaname family seemed to be one of the healthier, happier families Yoruichi had ever encountered in her work. Observing them was a treat.

The next couple hours were occupied by the family claiming the living room, parents perched on the sofa, quietly talking to one another and occasionally participating with the ball rolling-chasing-bouncing game their children played with the borrowed cat. Then the doorbell rang. Yoruichi sensed who it was before Tomohisa returned and announced that Sayaka was looking for Madoka. Junko took Tatsuya and Yoruichi trailed after Madoka as she padded through the house.

Sayaka turned to face Madoka when the door opened. “Oh, uh, hey, Madoka. Um. Sorry to bother you.”

Madoka noted the way her friend was shifting uneasily. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Or, um, kinda?” Sayaka took a deep breath and straightened. “Mom said I had to go shopping for some stuff. She wouldn't let me say no. I can't tell her about the Witch thingy.” She looked down at her feet, balled her hands into fists, and looked back up. “I-- I don't want to go alone. So I thought-- I thought, they always say that if you have to do something kinda risky, have someone with to help... so... yeah.”

“I-- I don't know, Sayaka...”

Sayaka reached to one side, where Madoka and Yoruichi saw she must have leaned a baseball bat when she came. “I-- I have a weapon!” Sayaka gave an experimental swing and looked at Madoka hopefully. “But... safety in numbers, you know?”

Madoka bit her lip as Yoruichi wove between her ankles. “I don't have anything I can use.”

Sayaka stood straighter, bolder. “I'll protect you!”

After nibbling one thumbnail for a minute, Madoka hesitantly said, “Let me get dressed.”

Yoruichi trailed her through the house, meowing unhappily. While she was pleased that Sayaka had the presence of mind to think of the buddy system, the entire situation had Bad Idea written all over it in flashing neon letters-- especially considering neither of them had any idea how to use the reiatsu they possessed. When Madoka and Sayaka left, Yoruichi darted out the door to follow them. They tried to make her go back inside, but gave up and resigned themselves to the black cat trotting along with them as they headed for the shopping district.

They were cutting through a quiet lane behind an antique shop and a florist when Sayaka stopped in her tracks and cocked her head to one side. She looked around in confusion. “Do you hear that?”

Madoka frowned. “Hear what?”

“That girl.”

“What girl?”

“She's calling....”

Yoruichi looked up at Sayaka's face. She looked lost. Then Madoka stiffened and looked in the same direction as her.

“I... I hear it, too. But-- but where is it coming from?” Madoka looked dazed.

The disguised shinigami cast her senses around them more carefully. Nothing. Sayaka turned toward the dumpster behind the florist and took hesitant steps toward it. Yoruichi still sensed nothing until the air warped and a large circle of dead butterflies spun into existence, the space within like a blurry kaleidoscope image with a large red butterfly sigil in the middle. The distinct Garganta-like feeling she had noted in Karakura popped up from nowhere. The heat haze effect must have been hidden by the dumpster, dammit.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit_ , Yoruichi thought. _I knew this was a bad idea_.

Eyes glazed, Sayaka stepped inside and disappeared. Madoka startled into full awareness with a small flare of reiatsu and gasped, “Sayaka!”

Yoruichi yowled as Madoka jumped in the portal after her friend. She had no choice but to follow the girls. Akemi was going to be _pissed_.

The world within was bathed in dim twilight. It was composed of assorted architecture, art, and gardens. Arbitrary girders and bridges zigzagged from tower to tower. Atop the girders were rows of silhouetted Familiars conveying large rose blossoms across the air in an unending chain like a bucket brigade, stick-like arms swaying back and forth above them as they were partially silhouetted by a permanently setting sun. Old-fashioned elevators and wrought iron staircases were placed at random, some straight, some spiral, linking each checkered floor to the next. The girls and cat were currently on a platform of red and black tiles bordered by strips of dry grass and scraggly trees with twitching teabags dangling from their limbs.

Yoruichi had just resolved to claw Sayaka's calves to snap her out of her trance when the girl blinked and jerked into awareness on her own. As with Madoka, it seemed to happen because of a small flare in her reiatsu. Kisuke would have a field day with this information.

Sayaka glanced around, saw Madoka completely frozen in terror, and gulped. “I didn't-- I didn't mean to do that.”

Madoka whined far back in her throat and looked around like a caged animal. There was no sign of the portal. “H-how do we get out?”

Sayaka turned in a circle. “The only doors I see look pretty crazy. And they're almost all the same.” She chewed her lip and weighed their options. “Stranger Danger called them labyrinths, right? That's a kind of maze, right? Mazes have exits. So-- so maybe we just need to find the exit? If we wander around, we'll find it eventually, right?”

Yoruichi wondered if Japanese schoolchildren were taught the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur. The one where wandering the labyrinth got most people lost and killed, which she only knew because Kisuke was both a polymath and an unrepentant over-sharer who had inventor's-remorse _feelings_ about Daedalus and Alfred Nobel when exceedingly drunk.

...Probably not.

Hadn't their parents taught them to stay in one place when lost to be easier to find?

“What about the Witch? And the-- the little thingies?” Madoka squeaked.

Whatever Sayaka was going to say was interrupted by the tinkling of small bells and chirping of b **a** by bir **d** s as a flock of mustachio **e** d b **l** obs with **b** utterfly wings and many **e** yes swa **r** med **t** hem. Both girls screamed and held their arms up to protect their faces as Yoruichi sized up the Familiars. They were all multicolored and didn't seem to have any appendages, simply flying around the girls in an irritable flock as their ringing and chirping grew louder. Then both girls broke and ran-- thankfully in the same direction. Yoruichi tailed them as the Familiars chased them like a flock of oversize bats. Madoka followed Sayaka through twists and turns, up stairs and down stairs, until they got cornered in a courtyard surrounded by teabag trees decorated with multicolored caterpillars and chrysalids. Then came a cl **a** ttering a **n** d giggling as gian **t** cotton balls wit **h** mustaches lurched **o** ut of the rose bushes o **n** butterfl **y** legs.

They matched the description Homura had given her, but Yoruichi still felt like she had accidentally ingested one of Kisuke's experimental products.

As the Familiars began closing in on the girls and chanting in childish German, Sayaka straightened her spine, hardened her face, and hefted her baseball bat into a few practice swings. “I-- I'll handle it,” she said with shaky bravado.

“S-sayaka--!”

“I'll handle it!” the blue-haired girl shouted with an edge of panic in her anger. She swung at one of the flying creatures, missing the one she intended to hit but connecting with a second one behind it. Sayaka gave up on trying to aim in the mayhem and just started swinging wildly at the swarm while Madoka huddled at her feet with Yoruichi.

Yoruichi, for her part, seriously considered blowing her cover to assume her human form and save the girls before they could be badly hurt. Two things stayed her hand: the possibility that this experience could scare them out of contracting better than any words that could be said to them and the thought of _if this Incubator is anywhere near as conniving as Kisuke or Aizen, this is a setup_.

She held herself back and repeated this mantra as Madoka broke down and sobbed into her fur. Just when Yoruichi decided to throw caution to the wind, a bolt of reiatsu slammed down from above, hit the ground in front of them with gold and red light, and rapidly expanded in a storm of ribbons in every direction to blow away the Familiars as if by an explosion. Sayaka and Madoka's hair and clothes rustled as though caught in wind as light forming a floral kaleidoscope shimmered beneath their feet and exuded an outward-pressing force.

“Ah, that was a close one,” a girl's voice called out pleasantly. Yoruichi and the girls looked up. A blonde with her hair in curly pigtails was descending a nearby set of spiral stairs, spring green cardigan and pale yellow dress fluttering in the streams of golden reiatsu pouring off the yellow Soul Gem she held in her left hand. Her right hand hovered near the Soul Gem as little flowers made of light popped into and out of existence around it like bubbles. The girl smiled kindly, eyes warm. “But don't worry-- you're safe now.”

_Annnd there's the bait for the trap_ , Yoruichi thought drily. _Mami Tomoe, paragon of magical girls_. Sometimes she hated being right.

Sayaka sputtered as the newcomer reached their floor and strolled closer, seemingly unmindful of the masses of Familiars angrily surging around her barrier. Madoka stared with wide eyes, surprised out of her tears.

“Are you injured?” the new girl asked.

Madoka stammered, “N-not really” as Sayaka squawked and gestured at the blonde with her bat and demanded, “Who're you?!”

“That's right, I haven't introduced myself yet,” the new girl said contritely. She opened her mouth to say more, but the strange blob Familiars were clustering together into large masses and beating on her barrier as the cotton ball minions generated thorny vines wielding scissors longer than the girls were tall. The girl let out a little huff, sounding more amused than anything. “Before I get to that--” she held up her Soul Gem and smiled-- “Do you mind if I wrap up a bit of work?”

Sayaka opened her mouth to retort but it turned into a gasp as the yellow Soul Gem flared brilliantly. Yoruichi narrowed her eyes and committed as much as she could to memory to report to Kisuke later. Whereas Homura's transformations seemed to be her violet reiatsu consuming her as though in some combination of flame and fluid, this girl's transformation seemed to consist of shining ribbons of yellow reiatsu twirling around her, pulling tightly around her form, and bursting away with a sparkle of flowers until her normal clothing was replaced by a magical girl costume featuring a white blouse, white arm warmers, brown fingerless gloves, brown cincher, short but puffy yellow skirt, striped saloon girl stockings, and brown and yellow boots. A flower-shaped topaz-- her Soul Gem-- was attached to a brown pillbox cap with a puff of white feathers. Yoruichi noted that the girl's reiatsu was very strong. Stronger than Homura had been when facing the Pumpkin Witch; but Yoruichi was certain Homura had been holding back then. And her use of conventional weaponry masked her true strength.

Yoruichi _really_ wanted to know how strong Homura Akemi was when she went all-out. She admired the girl's ability to conceal her true prowess, though. It bespoke caution, self-preservation, and strategic planning-- playing her cards close to the vest. As former commander of the division specializing in covert ops and subterfuge, she had true respect for that.

The magical girl winked at Madoka and Sayaka, pointed the toe of one boot out, and span in a circle, throwing her arms wide as tiny flowers burst up in a trail behind her dragging boot. Bolts of yellow reiatsu lanced out from her hands like party streamers and turned into ivory muskets. Dozens of identical copies of the weapon were suspended in midair, all pointing outward. The blonde gracefully raised one arm and let it fall in a sharp movement. The guns each shot a molten gold projectile. It looked like countless hot coals exploding out from around them. Secondary explosions happened whenever a musketball made contact with an enemy.

Yoruichi shook her head slightly and flicked her ears. She had long known how to use her own reiatsu to protect her ears from explosions-- anyone who had ever lived in the same building as Kisuke Urahara or been friends with a Shiba learned this to preserve their sanity-- but she had been just a bit slow on the uptake. Unacceptable. She'd have to practice. An irreverent thought crossed her mind: Well, it was obvious where Homura had picked up her habit of suddenly firing the ordnance of a small army without warning anyone around her that she was going to do it.

With another gesture, the girl caused a yellow ribbon to spiral out of her hand and around the clearing, then retracted the ribbonlike reiatsu quickly to generate a small whirlwind to clear the smoke of her attack. The butterflies from the minions fluttered away. The magical girl settled her hands on her hips with a satisfied sigh and turned to the girls. She smiled contritely once again. “My apologies. Are you all right?”

Madoka stood shakily, clutching Yoruichi to her chest. The cat could feel the girl's heart thundering. Madoka's mouth opened and closed, but all she could do was gape. Sayaka behaved similarly. The magical girl looked concerned and stepped toward them.

Sayaka took half a step back. “Wh-who are you?”

The blonde blinked and stopped short in surprise, then smoothed her skirt and laced her hands together demurely. “Ah, I apologize. We were interrupted. My name is Mami Tomoe.” She bowed slightly. “As you can see, I am a magical girl.” Mami smiled and winked conspiratorially. “Don't tell anyone, okay?”

Sayaka and Madoka shared a wary glance. Neither answered. Then Sayaka shifted uneasily. “So, Tomoe. What now?”

“Normally, I would try to get you safely out of here and chase down this Witch later, but this one has been so slippery I can't afford to lose it again-- it may take more people like you before I can track it.” Mami tilted her head and looked at them searchingly. “But you are conscious and sane in here. That's rare. I can feel your magic. You should be able to withstand this labyrinth as long as I do the fighting and you hang back and do exactly as I say.”

“Won't-- won't we get in your way?” Madoka asked meekly.

A sunny smile warmed Mami's face. “Of course not! Not if you cooperate! Stay behind me, stay together, and I'll be able to protect you.”

“W-well,” Madoka said hesitantly, “I-- I don't want someone else to get hurt just to get out of here, so-- so I-I'll come!” Determination didn't quite hide her fear, but Yoruichi was pleased that she could push through it.

Sayaka straightened with the trickle of her confidence returning and tentatively held up her bat. “We-- we won't be _completely_ helpless.”

Bemused, Mami hesitantly asked, “Why do you have a baseball bat with you in the shopping district?”

Sayaka flushed and looked at Madoka. “Well, uh... long story?”

Mami's lips quirked with restrained humor. “You'll have to tell me later. Hold it up toward me, if you don't mind?”

Sayaka brandished the bat as Mami stepped closer. The magical girl grabbed the bat. Reiatsu, ribbons, and flowers flashed and transformed the bat into... well, a more ornate bat. Instead of scratched wood, it was pale blue and embossed with golden rose filigree. Tiny flowers bubbled around it, apparently a calling card of sorts for the girl's techniques.

Mami let go and stepped back. “There you go. It's not much, but it should work much better on anything you can hit. It's the closest thing to a magical weapon I can get you.”

_Kisuke is going to love this_ , Yoruichi thought. Imbuing a mundane object with one's reiatsu to enhance attack power was common enough, but to be able to do so remotely for more than a few seconds-- as with Karin and her soccer balls-- was advanced. Especially if the object itself was changed or encased.

Sayaka marveled at the changed bat and swung it experimentally. She must have liked what she felt because her eyes lit up even more. “Wow, thanks, Tomoe!”

Mami giggled into her hand, then turned serious. “Follow me. I'll finish this enemy and explain everything over some cake, okay?”

“I never say no to free cake!” Sayaka crowed.

Madoka looked uncertain, but firmed her face and straightened her shoulders with a nod.

They set off at a jog, Mami in the lead, Madoka in the middle carrying Yoruichi, and Sayaka as rear guard. Of sorts. Mami's floral kaleidoscope barriers did most of the guarding, but Sayaka got a few hits. Yoruichi took mental notes on Mami's abilities. Her supply of guns seemed to be endless, but Mami only ever got one shot from each gun before she threw it aside and conjured another one. The ammunition seemed to vary; most of the time, it was a glowing yellow musketball. Sometimes, Yoruichi could swear it was buckshot. Mami was a pragmatic fighter. She seemed to thrive mostly in ranged combat, but would allow specific weak enemies to get close to her if she could take them out with a blow from a used gun in one continuous motion between shots-- excellent conservation of motion and effort. The girl often summoned multiple guns at once and went through them with the fluid grace of long practice, her style a mesmerizing hybrid of rhythmic gymnastics, flag twirling, stave fighting, and skeet shooting. She was methodical enough to get predictable if you watched her very long, but she was also dealing with floods of the same kind of enemy very efficiently, so that may or may not mean anything. And she was young, still. So much potential. Graceful and conscious of manipulating range as she was, Yoruichi bet the girl would be a holy terror if properly trained in hand-to-hand combat.

The party progressed through the labyrinth at a steady clip, plowing through twilit hallways, bridges, gardens, and galleries, past strange art, doors, and windows that looked like they had been slapped onto the walls with découpage and little respect for perspective or logic. Patrolling flocks of the chiming blobs kept finding them and clamoring to summon more cotton balls to stop them as they navigated rose-filled tea gardens and black hedgerows. They finally reached a pit that contained a fancy door. Mami jumped down into the pit, conjured a row of guns, and fired at the mob of cotton ball Familiars juggling roses. Madoka and Sayaka awkwardly dropped down after her and approached the door. It was covered in strange runes.

“There will be a much stronger monster called a Witch behind this door,” Mami explained with a businesslike tone. “You need to stay behind me and do as I say. I'm not sure what the inside will look like. Be ready for anything.”

Sayaka's face firmed with determination while Madoka squeezed Yoruichi tighter and swallowed hard.

Behind the door was... another door, surrounded by a ring of giant dead butterflies. And another, and another. The butterfly doors had begun to seem infinite when suddenly a door opened into a massive chamber. Mami cautiously stepped to the floor's edge and assessed the battleground. Madoka and Sayaka peered around her. They were on a ledge high above a tea garden full of brambles and roses. There were also stone pillars with cotton ball heads and random artwork strewn about. The cotton ball Familiars bustled about the ground, apparently tending the roses. The chamber's walls were constantly shifting overlapping rings of different materials-- lace, wrought iron, picket fences, burlap, plaster molding, accordion fencing, patterned wallpaper-- a wildly rotating jumble, often featuring silhouettes of butterflies. Above them, the ceiling was completely blanketed in red rose blossoms. In the middle of the garden was a massive red fainting couch that served as throne to an ungainly monster.

“Look. That is a Witch,” Mami said to the other girls.

“Eugh,” Sayaka said with a lip curled in disgust. “Gross.”

“Y-you're going to fight that?!” Madoka asked, voice small.

Mami glanced at them over her shoulder with mild surprise, then turned and smiled reassuringly. “Don't worry. I won't lose to the likes of that. Here.” She took the magically-augmented bat from Sayaka's limp fingers, twirled it around, and slammed the end of the bat straight down into the ground. Yellow and red ribbons exploded upwards like party crackers, arched outward, and formed Mami's floral barrier. She smirked playfully. “I'll just be a minute. Then we can talk over cake!” Without further ado, the magical girl hopped over the edge and disappeared.

Madoka and Sayaka rushed to the edge. They and Yoruichi watched Mami stroll through the **g** arden to approach th **e** monster. The majo rity of it was an amo **r** phous blob whose surface was swirled wi **t** h colors that balanced out to peach mottled with **r** ed. Six black insect legs jutted o **u** t from the blob. The blob narrowe **d** up to a vague neck holding a rough head of hanging moss and red roses. The whole thing was slumped over like a weeping willow, but shifted and twitched in a mockery of life. Gigantic swallowtail butterfly wings beat slowly on what was supposed to be its back.

**M** ami stopped within pl **a** in si **g** ht of the Witch, but **i** t didn't re **a** ct. The magical girl glanced down at what, from a distance, looked like little candle flames floating along the grass. She straightened, stared at the Witch, and deliberately stamped a candle flame under her heel. The Witch jerked up in alarm. Mami crushed another under her boot, grinding the thing into the sod for good measure. The Witch whirled to face her and roared. Mami curtsied and caused guns to fall from beneath her skirt. The Witch roared again, presumably at the impudence, and outright hurled its throne at the magical girl. Mami calmly grasped the guns as she rose from her curtsy, aimed, and shot at the furniture flying her direction. The two shots were sufficient to make the thing explode into a mess of splintered wood and upholstery as Mami back-flipped away.

_Damn, this girl has_ style, Yoruichi thought appreciatively. She could condone a certain flair for the dramatic as long as it wasn't detrimental to actual battle performance. It certainly worked in the current situation. The Witch was agitated and jittering around the huge room like an angry bee with no apparent direction-- too upset to coherently attack, it seemed. Perfect for taking pot-shots.

Mami took off her feathered cap, held it to the side and above her head with the brim down, and drew it across the air in front of and around her. Ribbon-like bolts of gold dropped out of it and turned into over two dozen muskets that stuck stock-up in the grass-- her own garden of weaponry. She calmly replaced her hat, braced herself in a good stance, and began methodically firing gun after gun after gun at the flying Witch, her motions smooth as she swept up a gun with one hand and discarded a gun with the other in an easy, alternating rhythm. Those shots that didn't connect with the Witch pockmarked the walls and sparked yellow.

Yoruichi noticed the problem before the other girls did. Madoka and Sayaka gasped as the grass-borne candle flames that had converged on Mami turned black and rose up in a line, melding into a black vine that wrapped around the magical girl's lower body and yanked her skyward. Madoka and Sayaka yelled her name as Mami cried out in surprise and immediately shot both guns she was holding, pelting the ground with buckshot and yellow sparks. The vine slung her around in the air and whipped her at a wall. The girls screamed, but Yoruichi watched intensely as she felt Mami's reiatsu spike right before the unexpectedly loud impact. When the dust cleared, Mami was sitting upright in the cracked wall, which looked more like a cannonball had hit it than a human body. The grimacing magical girl was still entwined in the vine but also surrounded by her floral kaleidoscope as little sparkles Yoruichi presumed were the eldritch flowers she'd seen earlier bubbled around her head and joints.

The little part of Yoruichi's mind that would forever speak in Kisuke's voice when evaluating oddities crowed, _Fascinating! Practiced or instinctive? How many techniques did she just combine into one? Would that be more akin to shikai or kidō? Or is it a completely new toy?_ She also noted that the girl would do well to drill in situational awareness. Getting snagged so easily had been sloppy.

The vine swung the girl airborne again and jerked her up to hang upside-down over the center of the garden-- directly over the Witch. Mami's arms dangled loosely as the monster beneath her strained upward like a dog seeking a treat. Madoka and Sayaka screamed the girl's name again, terrified panic in their voices.

Mami shook herself a bit, shifted, and called out, “I'm fine!” She swayed a bit and glanced their way with a confident smile. “As though I could ever let myself look so uncool in front of my future magical girl juniors!”

Yoruichi's ears flicked back to rest against her head. Was it an innocent presumption based on the power Mami had sensed from the girls? Or had she been told to actively recruit them?

A hissing sound echoed in the chamber as all the bullet holes pockmarking the ground and walls sparked and sprayed ribbons of yellow light in every direction, accompanied by the tiny flowers characteristic of Mami's techniques. The cotton ball Familiars who had been tending the garden scattered around uncertainly as though trying to prevent damage to the roses. Many of the ribbons ensnared the cotton ball minions and thrashed them about in the brambles. The Witch turned this way and that in panic, decided the magical girl was to blame, and shrieked as a cacophony of machete slices rang out in the chamber. Gigantic pairs of black scissors burst from the Witch's mossy head, snapping toward Mami as they were propelled by thorny black vines. Mami's yellow streamers swirled through the air after them, lassoed them to restrain them, and wrapped around the Witch with a shower of tiny flowers. Once the Witch was bound and struggling, Mami looked satisfied and murmured something as she put one hand to her neck and untied her costume's neck bow with a quick tug. The yellow ribbon flew a short distance of its own accord, snapped straight, and shot up at the vine Mami was suspended from. It cut the vine and freed the magical girl, then rebounded to return to her hand as she righted herself mid-fall. The ribbon enlarged and spiraled into a cylinder which filled and flashed with Mami's sunny reiatsu as it turned into a massive flintlock musketoon without a stock. Yoruichi didn't know how the hell the girl was holding it to her shoulder without looking comical-- the barrel was nearly as tall as its wielder and should have looked ridiculous.

The magical girl cheerfully yelled, “ _Tiro Finale!_ ” The ensuing discharge sounded like cannon fire and looked like a flamethrower of golden light. It seemed to ignite the ribbons of light around the Witch. Then everything exploded in blindingly bright yellow light.

Yoruichi stared in dumbfounded surprise. That was several orders of magnitude more devastating than she had expected. That Lieutenant-class attack could have done serious damage to a Menos Grande. And the one who used the technique was a cute fifteen-year-old girl in a cute dress and cute pigtails daintily landing with a pirouette and smiling up at them as though she had swatted a bug and was eager to return to her tea party.

Just.

Wow.

_God_ , she hoped whatever Kisuke put together included teaching this girl something. She knew her friend had something in mind for her to do with Homura, though he had been vague on details. That was going to be fun on its own. The prospect of adding Mami filled her with glee.

The garden world wobbled and collapsed, leaving all four beings standing in the alley once again. Mami released her transformation, replacing her battle costume with her civilian clothing. The technique she had applied to Sayaka's bat faded as it fell over and clunked on the asphalt. Madoka and Sayaka stared at Mami as she delicately smoothed her dress and adjusted her hair. Yoruichi saw the light of newborn hero worship in their eyes. Which was probably the Incubator's pla--

_Good job, Mami!_ a cheerful voice rang in their heads. Yoruichi stiffened as Madoka turned around in search of the “voice's” source.

“Ah, Kyubey!” Mami said pleasantly as she retrieved the Witch's Grief Seed from the pavement. “I was wondering where you were.”

Perched on the edge of the florist's dumpster among wilted bouquets of baby's breath, pink roses, and rotten white carnations was a creature that matched the sketches Karin, Yuzu, and Homura had drawn for Kisuke. Its fluffy tail undulated lazily as its beady red eyes stared at the girls. What unnerved Yoruichi was that she hadn't sensed it at all. Still could not sense it. No noticeable reiatsu. She could smell it, though. Very faintly. Oddly, it didn't have any residual scents aside from Mami's. Usually, Yoruichi's feline sense of smell could assist her in making educated guesses about where any given item or being had been-- traces of grass, smoke, sea breeze, food, and so on. Madoka tended to have the residual scents of laundry detergent and baby shampoo common in her home. Homura had a constant undertone of gunpowder. Currently, Mami smelled strongly of baked sweets-- probably the cake she had mentioned. Yet the Incubator only had its faint unique scent and Mami's faint unique scent. It hadn't picked up the scent of baked goods from the magical girl. It was something Yoruichi decided she should pay attention to in the long term.

_I apologize for my tardiness. But I knew you could do it, Mami!_ the creature cheered. _And I see you made new friends!_ It turned to the two girls it had yet to contract and tilted its head cutely, eyes crinkled in an approximation of a smile. _It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Madoka Kaname! And also you, Sayaka Miki!_

“H-how do you know our names?” Madoka asked timidly.

_I have a request for you two_ , the Incubator said, completely ignoring the question. _I want you to make contracts with me and become magical girls like Mami!_

_Straight for the kill_ , the cat observed grimly. _Think fast, Yoruichi._

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . WITCH DATA . . . . . . . . . .  
>  GERTRUD, the Rose Garden Witch with a distrustful nature. She holds roses dearer than anything else. She expends all of her power for the sake of beautiful roses. Despite stealing the life-force of humans who wander into her barrier to give to her roses, she loathes the thought of them trampling the inside of her barrier.
> 
> Minion: Anthony. His duty is landscaping. His mustache is set by the Witch.
> 
> Minion: Adelbert. His duty is to act as lookout. Upon seeing a human, he will sound a warning bell and headbutt him mercilessly. They have 2.5 (20/8) vision. The smaller type can change into rose vines to hinder intruders. 
> 
> . . . . . . . . . .
> 
> A/N: Bleach fans: Mami vs Gertrud is in the second half of episode two if you want to look at it. On Crunchyroll, you can jump to the section after the third commercial point. 18:10. Some of the unimportant details are from the movie version, though. YouTube has been yanking down a lot of the fight clips over the last few months but go ahead and try googling “Mami vs Gertrud” if you want.


	48. SIEBENUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ah mah gahd  
> Long time no see, etc.  
> As I said in my profile, adulthood struck me. My contracts dried up. Still struggling. Job hunting is tedious. I'm so happy that people care about this story, though. Here you go!

§ x § x §

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**SIEBENUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Yoruichi had mere seconds to decide how to react-- or whether she should at all. Figuring the girls could use some interference to keep them on edge around the Incubator and that she and Homura could cook up an explanation later depending on its reaction, Yoruichi looked straight at the Incubator, set her ears back, and bristled her fur with a low growl. Everyone turned to look at her. She snarled a hateful threat, hissed, and bared her teeth. Madoka and Sayaka were instantly wary.

Mami looked stunned. She turned to the Incubator with wide eyes. “I thought you were invisible to anyone who couldn't be a magical girl, Kyubey.”

 _For the most part_ , the Incubator replied in a mildly curious tone as it scrutinized the spitting cat. _With humans, that is. Some animals have always been more perceptive of the supernatural than humans, though. They have a certain intelligence but lack sentience to interfere with their instincts._ It tilted its head in apparent thought. _Felids and canids are the most adept_ , it said. _I have been chased by the more territorial of each family. I tend to avoid them._

Yoruichi yowled, but was pleased. Hurray for the little monster providing her with a role to work with. It was lying about visibility, tho-- wait. “ _For the most part_.” With context that implied the answer was “true of all humans, but not for all animals.” Misdirection. Yoruichi growled resentfully. This was going to be like a business or matchmaking meeting between noble houses back in Seireitei. Or getting a straight answer out of Kisuke when he was in a _mood_.

“Animals?” Mami frowned in confusion. “But I've seen you near pigeons. They don't notice you.”

The Incubator took its eyes off Yoruichi to look at Mami and waved one paw dismissively.  _With the exception of corvid_ _ s and  _ _ psittacines-- _

“Sitta-what?” mumbled Sayaka.

_\--Most avifauna lack sufficient perception. I could walk through a flock of columbids without disturbing them._

“What-- what's avi-- avi--?” Madoka struggled.

“What do Colombians have to do with any of this?” Sayaka asked, scratching her head and looking bewildered.

_ Avifauna are commonly called birds. Columbids are commonly called pigeons or doves. Also, corvids are generally called crows or ravens and psittacines are commonly called parrots _ , the Incubator explained happily.

From its posture and tone, Yoruichi would bet money it was making a play to look intelligent and instructive. Like a benevolent sharer of higher knowledge. It was like one of Kisuke's little “ha ha I'm so smart look at me say big words you don't know” needling techniques without the blatant obnoxiousness.

Sayaka's mouth twisted for a second. “Just say so, jeez,” she scoffed quietly.

 _Those terms are so specific that I find it more efficient to refer to the groups by their scientific classifications to include every species within the families_ , the Incubator chirped.

“A-ah. All right,” Mami said with a thoughtful look as the creature hopped into her arms. She turned back to the girls. “As I said before, I'm Mami Tomoe. I'm a third-year student at Mitakihara Middle School.”

“Um, I'm Sayaka Miki. I'm a second year there. And this is Madoka Kaname,” Sayaka said with a wave of her arm. She cautiously bent to retrieve her bat. After a long, uncomfortable silence, she blurted, “I think you said something about cake?”

Mami's eyes widened and she laughed brightly. “Of course, of course! Follow me!”

§ x § x §

The cake was lovely, as was Mami's posh apartment, but Yoruichi refused to let the girls relax and enjoy either. She maintained a steady, low growl rumbling through the welcoming, oohing and ahhing, and serving. When the Incubator hopped onto the table in front of Mami, Yoruichi made a show of lunging for it, claws out, but allowed herself to be caught by Madoka and drawn into her lap. She settled back against Madoka's abdomen and hissed. Her behavior obviously disturbed all three girls. Then the Incubator gave her a gift.

 _Perhaps we should dispose of the feline_ , it said.

Madoka and Sayaka whipped their heads toward it and looked appalled. Both physically pulled back from the table.

The Incubator blinked exaggeratedly. _Ah. Temporarily, of course. To prevent interruptions. Perhaps we can confine it?_ It waved its tail toward the apartment's hall to indicate the other rooms available.

A reasonable explanation that calmed the girls, but Yoruichi felt smug. The damage was already done. She became even more smug when Madoka hugged her protectively and said, “N-no. This is my friend's cat. She trusted me to take care of her. I'm keeping her with me.”

 _Your friend Homura Akemi_ , the Incubator added, far more directly than Yoruichi had expected. A ploy to catch them off-guard?

“So you know her,” Sayaka said.

_No. I know_ of _her but have not met her directly._

Mami frowned as she lifted her teacup to her lips. “How is that possible? If she's a magical girl, surely she must have made a contract with you?”

The Incubator looked at her placidly. _You could say yes. You could also say no. She is a curious anomaly. I do not know when she contracted. I am suspicious of her._

Madoka and Sayaka shifted uneasily and exchanged a glance. The magical girl lowered her teacup after taking a sip and reproachfully said, “You didn't mention this when you told me to be careful of her, Kyubey.”

 _I did not want to worry you unnecessarily_ , it soothed. _Still, she is a dangerous unknown element._

“She's our friend!” Madoka objected.

The Incubator turned to her and looked innocently curious. _Is she really?_

“Yes!” Madoka said emphatically.

“Akemi saved us! Like Tomoe did!” Sayaka added.

Red eyes shifted to Sayaka. _Are you sure that wasn't calculated on her part? Can you be sure she was honest with you? What if she aims to manipulate two potential contractees for her own ends?_

 _Ohhh, this sneaky little bastard_ , thought Yoruichi.

Sayaka crossed her arms and scowled suspiciously. “I dunno. Can we be sure _Tomoe_ saving us wasn't calculated? Can we be sure _you're_ honest with us? What if _you're_ trying to manipulate us?”

Mami looked startled and hurt. The Incubator blinked and tilted its head. After a long silence, it said, _Touché._

Stalemate.

Yoruichi wondered exactly which of Sayaka's buttons had been pressed correctly to achieve this inversion of the suspicion Homura had described of the times before.

“So,” Mami ventured after a long silence. She unhappily looked between her two wary guests. “You two are friends with the... other magical girl?”

The two friends glanced at each other again. Madoka looked forward. “Yes. She's very nice. I'm glad to have met her,” Madoka said with a touch of defiance. “It feels like I've known her much longer than I have.”

“Really serious and not good at chitchat, but she's cool,” Sayaka added with a shrug.

“And you say she saved you?” Mami prompted.

“Yup. The other day at the mall we ran into those cotton ball thingies.” Sayaka looked at Madoka. “She called them Familiars, right?”

“Mm-hmm,” Madoka agreed, still frowning.

Mami's brows rose. “She explained Familiars to you?” When they answered with nods, she asked, “What about Witches and such?”

“She told us,” Sayaka answered with a sulky caution.

_What did she say to you?_ asked the Incubator.

“She explained things about everything and stuff,” Sayaka non-answered, eyes narrowed at the Incubator. “How about you tell us your version?”

Yoruichi glanced her way and took note of her tense body language-- shoulders slightly hunched, chin tilted down while she looked up through her bangs, hands balled into fists in her lap, ignoring her cake and tea. It mirrored the slide into her particular brand of offensive defensiveness she had displayed during Homura's explanations. That could actually be a good thing, given the circumstances.

 _It would help to know what information she gave to you so that I may be sure to correct any inconsistencies_ , the Incubator argued, voice reasonable.

Madoka opened her mouth to answer, but Sayaka's hand snapped up and gripped her shoulder to stop her. She was staring at the Incubator, eyes hard despite her apparent nervousness. “N-no. Then you could change what you say. I-- I wanna know if what you say matches without-- without you knowing what Akemi said.”

Yoruichi mentally threw her arms skyward in gratitude to any deity who might be paying attention. _God bless the stubborn contrariness of Sayaka Miki!_ It _could_ be useful! Aiming it seemed to be the tricky part.

“S-so, _how about_ you _tell us_ your _version?_ ” Sayaka repeated aggressively.

Mami looked between the girls and the Incubator, her dismay that everything was going so terribly wrong written all over her face. The Incubator stared at them for a long time, face blank, tail a sinuous metronome. At length, it sadly said, _It appears Homura Akemi has already turned you against us._

The perfect words to make a lonely teenage orphan like Mami immediately increase her mental threat assessment of Homura, Yoruichi noted. The perfect nudge to make the girl take on the effort of recruiting the potential contractees, drawing them away from the mystery Homura presented, and digging for information without giving any kind of command. A neat little package.

Mami shakily set her teacup in its saucer and clenched her hands into fists in her lap, face distressed with an undertone of anger. “What did she tell you? Why are you so-- so--” Words failed her. Anger faded into plaintiveness. “Why don't you trust us?”

“It's not you, Tomoe,” Sayaka said slowly. “Not really. But _this_ guy is being weird. Not wanting to tell us stuff because we won't say what Akemi said.”

“Um,” Madoka said hesitantly, “My mama would say that... that not wanting to explain a contract is bad. I think.”

 _It is not that I do not wish to explain the contract, Madoka Kaname_ , the Incubator said carefully. _It is that I do not know what verbal traps Homura Akemi may have laid when she spoke with you. She may have conditioned you to react poorly to a certain word, phrase, or concept._

“Nuh-uh,” Sayaka said defiantly. “She told us some things and warned us not to do it but said it's up to us and if we listened to your offer we should ask a lot of questions and decide for ourselves. How is that a bad thing?”

 _It sows doubt_ , the Incubator replied.

Madoka shifted uncomfortably. “Isn't that how contract... bidding... works?” She wet her lips. “Um. Kinda? Like, Homura made an offer-- well, not an _offer_ , I guess, but you know-- and now I want to hear your offer, and then I ask questions and stuff to find out if you have a good deal or a bad deal. See if-- if you get more from it than me. Or maybe you have a good deal, but it's not the right deal for me.” She squeezed Yoruichi and dipped her chin shyly. “O-or something. Kinda. Um.”

The Incubator stared at her for a long moment. _You have more general knowledge of contracts than most humans your age_ , it observed.

The girl blushed, gave an awkward little laugh, and ruffled her own hair bashfully. “A-ah, I just know what Mama has said at dinner and stuff.”

Yoruichi needed to think long and hard about the implications of the Madoka of previous timelines choosing to contract despite that knowledge. Or was this the first time she had thought in business terms? It seemed unlikely, but Sayaka had already jumped the rails of Homura's expectations, so who knew? Then again, Homura had said Madoka was always the one most likely to be cautious about contracting if she had forewarning. Time to think about it. Maybe there had been more behind it than Homura had realized.

“S-so, what's your offer?” Sayaka asked sulkily.

The Incubator glanced at Mami, who pursed her lips and looked at the Incubator out of the corners of her eyes. “I'll explain the contract and the magical girl structure,” she volunteered in attempt to make peace.

Yoruichi and the girls listened as Mami gave the abridged version of the system and contract. The undercover shinigami was pleased that the girl presented the risk of death as seriously as she did, but her phrasing made that risk sound noble. At least she stressed that wish-making was not something to be taken lightly at all-- that the girls should only do it if there was something they wanted badly enough to risk their lives for.

“That's... pretty much the _basics_ of what Akemi said,” Sayaka said skeptically.

“But... but Homura told us more,” Madoka added.

“Yeah,” Sayaka agreed. “She-- what's the word--? Em-- Ell-- Eel--?”

 _Embellished?_ the Incubator offered in an innocent tone that made Yoruichi want to strangle it.

“Elaborated?” Mami guessed.

“Elaborated, yeah! _Elaborated_ on things she said a lot of magical girls don't know. Thanks, Tomoe.” Sayaka gave the Incubator a dirty look. “I'm not super smart but even _I_ know those are different things.”

 _How do you know it's one but not the other?_ it asked smoothly.

Madoka very nearly scowled. Apparently, repeatedly accusing a friend of deception crossed a line with the sweet girl. “She proved it.”

“Proved what?” asked Mami.

Madoka and Sayaka exchanged a long, solemn glance. The pink-haired girl breathed deeply, sat straighter, and turned to look Mami in the eye, uncharacteristically serious. After a hesitation to ponder words, she said, “Homura said every potential magical girl should start by asking what a Soul Gem is.”

Mami looked confused. She manifested her Soul Gem in egg form and held it up in question.

“But what is it, Mami?” asked Madoka.

The blonde blinked and furrowed her brow in greater confusion. “I just told you: When a girl accepts a contract with Kyubey, a Soul Gem is born. It is the proof of a magical girl's magic--”

“But what _is_ it?” Sayaka interrupted grimly. “What is it made out of?”

Mami's mouth clicked shut. She stared at her Gem, then the aloof Incubator, then her defensive guests. “Magic.”

Madoka nibbled her lip. “Why are they called _Soul_ Gems?”

“Yeah,” Sayaka said, perking up with challenge. “Why not _Magic_ Gems?”

 _Every girl's magic is defined by the wish her soul expressed at the time of contracting_ , the Incubator said as Mami turned to it in question. _This is evident in the different colors and shapes Soul Gems take, as well as in the wide variety of magical abilities contractees develop._

Mami looked mollified, but Madoka and Sayaka exchanged an uneasy glance. Yoruichi hoped it was because they noticed the evasion.

“Did Akemi tell you something about Soul--” Mami started, but was interrupted by a phone ringing.

Sayaka shuffled around in her pockets with a mumbled apology and answered her phone. “Hi, Mom. ...Uh, yeah. Madoka and I ran into someone from school, so we're still... by the shops. Yeah. I'll get that, too. Okay.” She rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling as her mother apparently nagged her. “Yes, okay, I'll hurry. See you later.” She hung up and looked from face to face around the table. “I have to go. We'll have to talk more later.”

“I'll come, too,” Madoka added quickly and stood as her friend did. She looked at her hostess and bowed slightly. “Thank you for having us, Mami.”

Mami rose and escorted them to the door, still uncertain. “If you have any more questions, feel free to see me at school or come here, all right?”

As they exited the door, Sayaka paused and turned back. “Thanks for saving us, Tomoe. Really. You're awesome.” She tilted her head and searched the older girl's face for a moment. “Can I ask you one more question Akemi told me to before I go?”

Mami raised a brow. “All... all right...?”

Sayaka pursed her lips for a moment, then grimly asked, “Where do Witches come from?”

The blonde blinked in surprise. “I... curses, of course.”

“Curses on what?” asked Madoka.

Mami knit her brow. “Spirits.”

Madoka tilted her head in confusion. “What kind of spirits? Where do they come from?”

Sayaka perked up with a sudden thought. “Oh, hey, have you seen any spirits without a curse?”

Mami looked stunned and confused. Behind her on the table, the Incubator was unfathomable as seemed to be usual. The magical girl opened her mouth to speak a few times but could not give an answer.

Sayaka pressed her lips into a disappointed line. “Think about it and tell us later, yeah?” She bowed slightly. “Thanks for having us over. And thanks again for saving us.” She turned away and walked past Madoka.

Madoka worried her lip and hopefully said, “M-maybe you should talk to Homura?” After another awkward moment, she turned and followed her friend to the stairwell.

Yoruichi wriggled up to peer over Madoka's shoulder. Tomoe stood motionless at the door, face completely bewildered.

And so began the wait to see whether Mami Tomoe would snap.

§ x § x §

Mami stood at the door for a long time after the two prospective contractees had disappeared. She didn't know what to think. Their questions were ones she had never really considered before. Turning them over and over in her head just confused her more. At long last, she slowly shut the door, stared at it for a minute, then turned to look at the table. “Kyubey--”

The table was empty of everything save the three untouched slices of cake and the tea set. Kyubey was gone. The empty apartment felt cavernous in the silence.

Mami leaned back against her door and slid to the floor. The situation seemed to be more complex than she had first thought. She wished she had someone to talk it over with.

§ x § x §

An hour later, Sayaka dumped her purchases in her kitchen and scurried off to hole up in her room with Madoka. They sat cross-legged on Sayaka's bed with a plate of cookies between them. Both were silent, each caught up in her own thoughts. Homura's cat was curled up in Madoka's lap, docile once more.

Sayaka thoughtfully sucked chocolate off her fingers as she watched the cat. “Midnight really hates that Kyubey-thing,” she began at long last.

Madoka hummed her agreement and pet the black cat, which immediately began purring. “I wonder if she's seen him around Homura. Homura sounded like she hates him.”

“Kyubey said he doesn't know her, but Tomoe said magical girls are made by contracting with him,” Sayaka said slowly. “So... is _it_ lying, or is Akemi?”

Her friend frowned hard. “I believe Homura,” she said. “She was-- she was so sad. I don't think she could fake that.” She bit her lip. “And... the other stuff.”

“Y-yeah.” Sayaka stared sightlessly down at her bed, a vision of Homura's temporarily dead body in her mind's eye. It was seared into her memory. Dull, unblinking eyes and the unnatural stillness of the absence of breath, made all the more unnerving by how the girl had been staring at her intensely before her face went slack and her body crumpled to the floor. It had been the first time she had seen a human corpse. Sayaka swallowed nervously and said, “Kyubey... didn't really answer the questions Akemi told us to ask.”

“Yeah.” The friends fell silent and nibbled cookies for a few minutes. After awhile, Madoka said, “I think... I think we shouldn't trust Kyubey.”

Sayaka twisted her lips to one side in an expression of skepticism. “I think you're right. I mean, I'm still not super certain about Akemi's info, either, but....” She smiled bitterly. “Like she said: 'Brutal.' She didn't sugar-coat at all, you know?”

“Mm.”

“But she still said she might wish again if things were really bad.” Sayaka looked at the ceiling and turned the memory of that meeting over in her head. “So... so, Kyubey and Tomoe say the wish risks your life, and Akemi says the wish risks your soul... I think.”

Madoka nodded. “But Kyubey didn't say it _doesn't_ risk your soul.”

“Man, I wish Mom hadn't called when we got to the good part,” Sayaka sighed in dismay. “I wanna know more. A wish and protecting people sounds really cool, but I dunno if it's worth my soul, you know? It'd have to be for something really big to be worth that. I wish we got more straight answers from them.”

Madoka chewed a cookie then worriedly said, “Mami... didn't seem to know the things we asked. Like how Homura said.”

“I dunno if that's good or bad,” Sayaka sulked. “I mean, I don't wanna be paranoid or anything. It could be Akemi has information Tomoe doesn't. But it could be an excuse so Akemi could lie.”

Her friend scowled stubbornly. “I believe Homura.”

Sayaka grinned ruefully, not a bit surprised. That was just what she'd expect from her friend. “I think I do, too, but... well, she's the one who said not to rush into anything. So I d'wanna rush into automatically believing _her_ , you know?”

Madoka tilted her head, eyes unfocused as she thought, then slowly nodded. “That's fair.”

Sayaka heaved a sigh of relief. If Madoka thought it was reasonable, then she wasn't being paranoid.

§ x § x §

Yoruichi was jostled awake on Monday morning when Madoka abruptly sat up and blearily stared at her open window, looking confused.

 _Must have dozed off_ , Yoruichi thought. She stretched, yawned, and accepted Madoka's morning head-pat with a purr. Her ears twitched as she noticed something odd--

“Good morning,” Madoka said sleepily.

A smell that didn't belong-- Tomoe, and the Inc--?!

 _Good morning, Madoka Kaname!_ a cheerful voice responded.

Madoka jumped and gasped. Yoruichi whipped her head around and locked onto the Incubator. It was sitting among the plushies on the topmost shelf over the bed. A “cute, harmless thing” among cute, harmless things.

It tilted its head curiously.  _Did you sleep well?_

“Kyu--?!” was all Madoka managed to sputter out before Yoruichi launched herself at the shelves with an enraged yowl.

Awake enough to not give herself away by enhancing her jump, Yoruichi latched onto the bottom shelf and scrabbled her way up, scattering plushies as she went. The Incubator stood and tried to back away or jump but the cat set upon it before it could complete the movement. Yoruichi clawed its chest and locked her jaws on its throat. The Incubator thrashed wildly and caused them both to fall, tumbling down with yet more plushies as Madoka yelped and scrambled off the bed.

The Incubator kept trying to defend with its long, ear-like appendages, but Yoruichi just clawed them to ribbons. If it had claws or any other defenses, it wasn't making use of them. The fight was extremely one-sided. The two creatures were a whirlwind of fur and blood as Yoruichi relentlessly attacked while yowling, hissing, and snarling. Madoka ended up on the floor with her back pushed up against the door as she gaped at the fight with wide eyes.

They were all distracted by a knock on the door. Tomohisa's voice called, “Madoka? Are you all right?”

“Ah-- ah-- P-papa--”

“What's going on?”

The Incubator capitalized on Yoruichi's momentary glance away and made a break for the window. Yoruichi leapt after it and raked a long series of parallel gouges down its back as it jumped from bed to window sill. She stood on the sill and yowled a challenge at the bloodied little monster as it fled. Madoka rushed over and slammed the window shut, breathing heavily with the rush of adrenaline.

The door opened. Tomohisa leaned in, extremely concerned. “Madoka? What--” Yoruichi glanced at him as his eyes went wide. “What happened in here?!”

Madoka remained kneeling on the bed, looking panicked. Yoruichi turned back to the closed window and continued her territorial cat act, hissing, spitting, and pawing at the glass as though wanting to give chase. Madoka turned this way and that, taking in the splashes of blood and the occasional tuft of white fur scattered around her bedroom. “Um-- Um-- There was-- There--”

Tomohisa cautiously stepped in, assessed the scene, and focused on the black cat. Yoruichi made a point of continuing to act belligerent toward something outside. Tomohisa frowned. “What is Yoruichi so angry at?” He plucked a tuft of bloodied white fur off the bed. “Was there an _animal_ in here?”

“Oh! Um! Yes! That's-- yes!” Madoka cried. “Ah, there was a cat-- um, a white cat! It was on the shelves. I-it must have been sneaky. I woke up... when... when Yoruichi jumped up at it and started making those noises! Yoruichi fought it-- the cat-- until it ran away. And I closed the window. Um.”

Yoruichi glanced back at her, then sulkily dropped to the bed and rubbed against Madoka's back in a gesture of comfort. The cat could see that the girl's eyes were wide and desperate-- probably terrified her father wouldn't believe her. Yoruichi meowed to get their attention and crawled up on Madoka's lap and pawed at her until the girl picked her up. She curled up and began licking blood from her claws.

Hm. Tasted like normal blood. Somewhere between cat and rabbit, oddly enough. Made her tongue tingle, though.

Tomohisa sighed. “Did you forget to close your window before bed again?”

“Um... yes!”

The man rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I warned you something like this might happen, sweetheart.”

Madoka looked down, cheeks burning. “I-I know. I'm sorry, Papa.”

“It could have bitten you or clawed you. It could have had rabies.”

“M'sorry,” Madoka mumbled.

“Ah, well. I think this has taught you more than any lecture could,” he said with resignation. Madoka nodded fervently. “I'll take care of the mess while you're at school. Go wake up Mama and get ready, okay?”

The girl perked up. “Okay! Thank you, Papa! I really am sorry.”

Tomohisa smiled slightly. “I know you are. Go on. No worries.” He leaned in and ruffled her hair, then reached down to Yoruichi and tugged at the tag on her collar. “Well, her license is new. Her shots must be up-to-date. Tell your friend about this just in case, though.” He dropped the tag and rubbed Yoruichi's ears. “I'm glad you were here to protect my little princess from that mean old dragon, Milady Yoruichi. I'm making you a treat before you go.”

Yoruichi meowed cutely. Madoka giggled. “Homura told me she knows what 'treat' means.”

“Oh?” Tomohisa's eyes lit up. He grinned at the cat. “Treat treat treat treat treat.”

Yoruichi meowed and rolled out of Madoka's arms, hopped down, and rubbed against his ankles as he laughed. Attention sufficiently diverted.

She pranced after Tomohisa as he headed for the kitchen. The man cut up and shredded a bit of leftover chicken for her to start with. Yoruichi ate it as she listened for the distant shriek of Junko waking up for the day. When Tomohisa went out to gather from the garden, Yoruichi wandered back down the hall. She found Madoka and Junko in the spacious bathroom, brushing their teeth side by side and talking lowly. They were just moving on from the “white cat” incident as Yoruichi slunk in to eavesdrop.

Madoka rinsed her mouth, then washed her face. Junko pushed a towel within her reach as she blindly groped around for one. The girl thoughtfully watched her mother applying makeup for a minute. She took a deep breath. “Hey, Mama.”

Junko put away her foundation and picked up a soft brush. “Hmm?”

“Say that-- just hypothetically-- say that someone offered to magically grant you any wish in the world. What would you d--?”

Junko scowled as she loaded her brush with blush and straightened to look in the mirror. Her reply was immediate and fierce. “I'd have those two trustees driven straight out of the company.”

Madoka blinked in surprise and let out an intimidated little, “Ah... hahaha....”

Yoruichi approached Madoka and circled her as Junko continued to think out loud. “And also... the CEO really is getting too old to keep pushing himself, so maybe I'd have him retire?” She applied her blush with irritated strokes, face drawn into fierce thoughtfulness. “Oh, but he hasn't named a successor yet... hrm.”

Madoka smiled conspiratorially. “Hehe, then what if _you_ became the new CEO?”

“Hmm?” Junko stilled, brush poised over a cheek, and stared at her daughter's reflection in surprise. Her mouth opened slightly, but she was speechless. Yoruichi watched her curiously as she ended her long pause by straightening, putting away her brush, and snapping the makeup kit shut. She turned away from the counter, eyes unfocused in quiet epiphany. “I hadn't considered that,” she murmured with speculative fascination. She distractedly picked up the makeup case by the handle and stood with it slung over her shoulder, face lighting up with determined challenge as she stared into space. “If I could gather enough support in the Sales Department...,” she said slowly. “I've already got the Planning Committee and General Affairs in my corner... Then my only hurdle would be old Baldy from Accounting....” She stalked away, intensely muttering, “Maybe... interesting....”

Madoka laughed weakly and began to brush her hair. “Ah, Mama... you've got a scary look in your eyes.”

Yoruichi stared after Junko. She couldn't help but notice that the woman seemed to have completely forgotten or dismissed the hypothetical wish and instead planned to get what she wanted through her own hard work. Hadn't said she'd _wish_ to be CEO, but immediately figured out the basics of a plan to accomplish the new goal. Had rejected the notion of wishing in favor of hard reality in which nothing came without effort even though the conversation had begun fancifully. Interesting.

The question was whether or not the woman's daughter had noticed.

§ x § x §

Mami sat at her coffee table and rubbed her eyes. She had slept poorly, woken early, and prepared everything for the school day well before dawn. Her tea had long since gone cold as she sat and listened to the clock tick away the time. She glanced at the dish rack in the kitchen-- at the plates and cups she had washed though the two potential magical girls had barely touched them. The entire afternoon had been a mess. It left her with so many questions-- which was jarring, considering she was used to having the answers. Or, she had _thought_ she'd known the answers. She had wandered the city a bit, casting about for Kyubey in an attempt to seek answers, but couldn't find him. What options were left to her? It was all very distressing. If only she still had Kyōko around to help her poke at it all, maybe... but that wouldn't happen. The rift was too deep. Mami sighed.

The early morning stillness made the sudden thump on her balcony surprisingly loud. Mami startled as Kyubey's androgynous voice touched her mind for the first time since the debacle the previous afternoon.

_M-Mami. Help... Help m-me...!_

Mami bolted upright and rushed to the balcony. She slid the glass door open and threw herself to her knees with a cry of shock. Kyubey was mangled and bloody, small chest heaving as he labored to breathe. He looked like he had been slashed repeatedly. Mami couldn't be sure, though-- his fur was matted with blood badly enough to make the wounds difficult to discern.

_P-please... h-help... help me...._

“Kyubey! I'm here!” Mami manifested her Soul Gem and held it over him with a sob. “Don't leave me!”

 _Akemi..._ , Kyubey said faintly.

“What? What about her?!”

_Akemi's... c-attacked...._

Angry tears streamed down Mami's cheeks as she willed her magic to heal her companion. “Why?!”

 _Hates me..._. Kyubey's eyes drooped. _What...? Why...?_ He shifted and relaxed some as Mami directed a red ribbon to wrap around one of his paws with a special purpose. _Ah... the pain... Thank you, M-Mami...._

“It's all right. We'll be all right. We'll figure this out,” Mami blurted. “I'll stay with you.”

 _Ah, but h-humans... school?_ he asked drowsily.

Mami scrubbed her eyes with a shirtsleeve and forced her face into determination. “Healing you is more important for now. I don't want to leave you alone like this. You could be attacked again. Go to sleep. I'll keep you safe.”

_You are... truly kind... M-Mami Tomoe...._

Mami stayed hunched over him for a long time after he fell asleep, wishing she was able to heal more quickly.

Furious. Utterly furious.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's odd how much I want to kick the Incubator in the jaw for what it does when I'm the one writing it.
> 
> I don't know how long it will be for the next chapter. Adulting has been intense and bothersome and exhausting lately. If I get hired somewhere steady, I should be able to settle back into writing more frequently. Cross your fingers for me if you want more updates lol.


	49. ACHTUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've had a lot of time at bus stops and on buses to use for scribbling in my story notebook so hi, here is a chapter sooner than I thought I'd manage one. :) Still stuck on the struggle bus, though.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ACHTUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Once again, Homura jolted straight from sleep to battle readiness at the shout from Ichigo's room well before dawn. Karin stirred and squinted at her in the dimness, saw her ring spark violet, and rolled off her bed and on top of Homura. Homura squawked and flailed through the slam of Ichigo's window as Karin clumsily grabbed her ring-hand and Yuzu sat upright and yawned.

“Karin, what are you doing?” Yuzu asked drowsily.

Karin remained draped over Homura like a sloth. “'M calmin' 'er down. Stupid Goat... loud....” she trailed off into a snore.

Homura, trapped beneath her, looked wildly at Yuzu, who just blinked back as though nothing unusual was happening.

After another boisterous Kurosaki household morning with a round of Soul Gem purification by Orihime, Homura boarded the early train with Ichigo and his friends once more. The boys sat in comfortable silence while Orihime babbled cheerfully at Homura. At the four friends' stop, Orihime bobbed toward Homura for a quick hug before darting off the train. Ichigo gave her some more quiet words of encouragement, ruffling her hair at the last minute before he left. Homura spent the rest of the ride drowsily running over the previous day's lessons in her head.

Homura checked the time when she got off the train in Mitakihara and decided it was late enough that she would just go directly to school. She pulled her book bag out of her shield in a quiet alley and approached the usual morning meeting place to find Sayaka and Hitomi waiting. They both waved cheerfully, but Sayaka's face had an awkward edginess to it. Homura tensed.

“Good morning, Akemi,” Hitomi said with a smile.

“How was the trip, Stranger Danger?” Sayaka asked with a crooked grin.

“It went well enough,” Homura murmured. She rifled in her bag and retrieved two tins of Glitterati to offer the girls. Sayaka squealed and Hitomi cooed her thanks.

“When did your train get in, Akemi?” Hitomi asked.

“Half an hour, perhaps.” Homura zipped her bag closed and settled with the third tin of candy. “Where is Madoka?”

“Not here yet,” Sayaka drawled. “Midnight could be keeping her busy.”

“Mid--? Oh. Yoruichi.”

“No, Midnight the Conqueror. Get it right, Stranger Danger!” Sayaka teased as she unwrapped a tiny candy.

“Have you even slept?” Hitomi asked as she tucked her own candy into her bag. “Tokyo is hours away from here, isn't it?”

“A bit, and yes,” Homura answered. She pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I took the first train and came straight from the station.”

Hitomi frowned and touched a hand to her cheek. “Oh, my. You've been up for hours, then. How are you still awake?”

Homura stared directly at her, paused for thought, and blandly said, “Magic.”

Sayaka choked on her candy as Hitomi giggled.

“Ah! You're here!” Madoka's voice called from down the lane. Homura turned to look for her and found her jogging up the path with Yoruichi tucked against her chest with one arm. Madoka looked worried. She stopped when she reached them and panted for a moment. Yoruichi wiggled out of her arms and dropped to the ground, then wove around Homura's legs in greeting. Madoka took a deep breath and looked Homura in the eye, troubled. “Um... Yoruichi... got into a fight.”

Homura frowned as the other girls looked curious. “With... what?”

Madoka bit her lip. “I... left my window open last night. When I woke up, there was a... _white cat_ on the shelf over my bed.” She looked disturbed and stressed words in a way that told Homura what had really happened.

The Incubator had approached Madoka.

Instantly angry, Homura looked down at Yoruichi. Yoruichi looked up at her expressionlessly, but Homura saw her bare her claws a few times. Confirmation?

Madoka continued. “Yoruichi jumped up and fought it. They... they fought all over my room. Yoruichi... really, really attacked... it. She chased it out the window.” Madoka looked down and nervously fidgeted with the strap of her book bag. “Papa is going to clean up the blood and fur while I'm at school.”

Homura glanced down at the cat again as the other girls made alarmed sounds. Unable to speak, Yoruichi sat and licked a paw regally-- the cat who ate the canary.

“W-wowww,” Sayaka said with a strained smile. “So-- so Midnight really _is_ a ninja!” Her laugh was awkward and brittle. She shifted restlessly and glanced from face to face, settling on Homura with a significant look but speaking to Madoka. “It must have... followed you home yesterday.”

Homura felt her skin crawl. “You... saw the white... cat... yesterday?” she asked through gritted teeth. “How? Did it... approach you?”

“Ah, it's my fault,” Sayaka said ruefully. “Mom wouldn't let me skip out on shopping and I didn't want to go alone, so I got Madoka to come with me.” After a pause, she added, “Midnight followed us. She... already didn't like the... _white cat_ when it showed up.”

Homura glanced down coldly. Yoruichi looked her in the face, bared her teeth with a yawn, and stretched, front legs extended before her with her claws out. She raked them backwards as she settled on her haunches. Homura desperately wished she could communicate with Yoruichi telepathically the way magical girls could with the Incubator.

“Well, I'm glad Yoruichi was there to get that stray out of your room. Did she get hurt?” Hitomi asked with concern, bending to look at the cat.

“Me, too. And I don't think so,” Madoka answered.

School bells chimed in the distance, ending the conversation. Homura shook herself a bit, suppressed her rage, then held the last candy tin out to Madoka. “Here. From Tokyo.”

The worry melted off Madoka's face and was replaced by a sunny smile as she took the tin and hugged it close. “Thanks for thinking of me, Homura!”

Homura couldn't help but quirk her own lips into a slight smile.

§ x § x §

Tomohisa finally got Tatsuya down for his nap after a busy morning. Instead of taking the time to breathe as usual, he gathered cleaning supplies and went to his daughter's room, resigned to scrubbing up dried blood. He stepped through the doorway and assessed the scene with a sigh. It seemed to not be as bad as he had remembered. He _swore_ there had been much more fur lying around, but whatever. Less work.

He moved around the room carefully, taking note of clumps of fur as he methodically pre-treated the blood spots. That done, he picked up a grocery bag to collect fur in while the stains soaked. He went to the places he had noted, but he must have been mistaken-- there was nothing in some of the places he thought there had been fur. Nothing pinged him as wrong until he got to the desk, where he had piled a couple clumps to get them out of the way on his first pass.

Nothing.

Tomohisa frowned. It had been very fine and light-- maybe a draft had blown it? He bent to look on the floor. The chair. Beside the desk. Nothing. Like it had disappeared.

He carefully completed his circuit of the room, noting more missing fur. It was unsettling-- was his memory going? was he overtired? Tomohisa thought hard as he knelt and started scrubbing the first of the stains, which seemed to have faded somewhat. After awhile, he zoned back in, sopped up the cleaner and water, and frowned harder. The stain was unaffected. Nothing on the cleaning cloth. He tried a different cleaner. Nothing. He sat back and looked around in confusion. His eyes wandered to the grocery bag full of fur.

Or not. It was empty.

Tomohisa stared hard, thoroughly disturbed. He leaned forward and brushed his fingers over the blood stain, withdrew to think, then dropped his hand and cloth into the pail of water. After a moment of contemplation, he hesitantly scrubbed at the stain again. It took some effort, but it came out.

Weird.

§ x § x §

The school day was uncomfortably tense. Sayaka kept sliding her eyes from Madoka to Homura, noting how Madoka couldn't stop fidgeting and Homura's movements-- when she wasn't sitting rigid with her hands clenched into fists, that is-- were jerky and abrupt with restrained anger. Hitomi caught Sayaka's eye and nodded at the two in question. Sayaka shrugged and cut her eyes away, forcing her hands to stop tapping her pencil. She was okay for awhile until Homura was called to the board to solve an equation and somehow wrote as if she was stabbing something with the marker. Sayaka's pencil went back to tapping, her knees bouncing anxiously again.

The day dragged on at an agonizing pace. It was a relief when Hitomi parted from them for her after-school lessons. They stood on the path and returned Hitomi's wave. Madoka bent down to pick up Yoruichi, who was hanging around waiting for them as always.

Homura glanced at them coldly. “My house.”

Sayaka and Madoka nodded meekly.

They trooped off to Homura's house in silence. Sayaka and Madoka sat at the table and fidgeted as Homura prepared and served tea and cookies, face stony rather than welcoming. Yoruichi slunk around the girl when she sat, purring insistently until Homura relented and pet her. Sayaka was glad to see Homura relax minutely. That cat was really something.

Homura closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then looked at them evenly and said, “Explain everything that happened.”

So they did. Homura was silent through the whole thing, eyes boring into whichever of them was speaking at any given time. Sayaka felt like a child explaining how she had been naughty to an adult. When they were done, Homura frowned, looked down at her tea, and picked it up to sip while her brows were furrowed in thought. The silence dragged. Sayaka was getting desperate to end the silence even if it meant babbling something stupid when Homura looked up once more.

“You were lucky,” Homura said bluntly.

“Y-yeah,” Sayaka agreed bashfully. She wiggled her teacup around by its handle, cheeks hot with shame.

Homura pressed her lips into an unhappy line and reluctantly said, “I suppose it is good you took the warning of danger seriously enough to not go out alone. But this could have gone very badly.”

“Y-yeah,” Sayaka said again, looking down. She glanced at Madoka. Her friend was wringing her hands and looking down.

“Mami-- Mami was really nice, though,” Madoka said hopefully as she lifted her chin. “Maybe-- maybe you could work together?”

“I doubt it,” Homura said immediately.

“Why not?” Sayaka asked.

Homura twisted her lips sourly before replying. “She trusts the Incubator too much. Besides, she's too soft.”

Sayaka was almost insulted on Tomoe's behalf. The magical girl with the guns had seemed pretty damn badass. “What does _that_ mean?”

“Do you know her?” Madoka asked softly.

Homura stared for a moment, then huffed slightly. “I know her by reputation. She has mentored other magical girls.” She focused on methodically preparing another cup of tea for herself as she continued. “Mami Tomoe is excellent in a fight. She is a... nice person. Noble. She has a tender heart. But she does not know any of the darker implications of the contract-- as far as I know, that is. Magical girls as well-intentioned as her... they do not tend to handle the truth about the contract very well. Be very careful when you interact with her.” Homura finished stirring sugar into the tea, tapped the spoon on the cup, and laid it on a napkin. She looked them both in the eye. “Whether you tell Tomoe about the birth of Witches or she figures it out herself, she could become... dangerous.”

Sayaka exchanged an uneasy glance with Madoka and asked, “What do you mean by that?”

The magical girl pursed her lips as she considered her words. “Girls who are caught up in the noble cause of protecting the innocent like some hero generally do _not_ react well when they find out they will become the monsters they fight.”

“W-what kind of reaction?” asked Madoka.

Sayaka was unnerved by the long, ominous stare Homura gave them. Her violet eyes were fathomless. It was like peering into twin black holes as the magical girl debated what to say. Finally, Homura explained, “Sometimes they immediately turn into Witches themselves. Sometimes... I have seen the kindest of girls snap, hunt down and kill other magical girls, and kill herself-- destroy the Soul Gems, that is-- to prevent the creation of Witches. To 'protect the innocent'.”

Nausea washed over Sayaka. “No-- No way--”

“No one-- no one would do that. Would they?” Madoka said shakily. “A kind girl like Mami-- never-- she wouldn't--”

“That was what I thought until a friend of mine killed our friend and tried to kill me,” Homura said with a bitter nonchalance. She picked up her cup and delicately sipped as Madoka and Sayaka stared at her in speechless horror. Homura glanced up at them, expressionless, set her teacup in its saucer, and carefully folded her hands together on the table. “I was once part of a team of magical girls. We had just finished defeating a Witch. We had seen another magical girl's Soul Gem turn black and were drawn into her labyrinth. My... friend-- our leader-- put all the pieces together during the fight and killed another of the girls we were with as soon as the labyrinth was gone. Then she tried to kill me.”

“What... what happened?” Sayaka forced herself to ask.

Homura looked down at her hands, melancholy. “Another friend reacted quickly and killed her to save me. But she turned into a Witch a couple weeks later.”

Sayaka and Madoka could only stare.

“That girl was... a good leader. A good teacher. She was a veteran when I contracted and she taught me a great deal. But the truth broke her.”

Madoka made a sound of distress and leaned forward. “Surely... surely not _all_ of them react like-- like _that_?”

“Like you,” Sayaka blurted. “You-- _you_ haven't gone nuts or gone on a killing spree or anything!”

Something doubtful and sardonic passed through the magical girl's features for a fleeting moment before her face smoothed again. “You assume a great deal,” she murmured faintly. Was that regret in her voice? Homura tilted her head back and stared into the distance, contemplative. “There are a few. The ones who have... support, or a purpose outside of their duty to hunt Witches. I suppose you could count me among the latter, now.”

Sayaka swallowed hard. “How many... how many of your friends... or just, just magical girls... how many d-died?” ...Actually, that had probably been very rude to ask. Dammit.

“Too many.” Homura bowed her head and closed her eyes. “I am the only survivor of my original team of five.” She looked up at them with sudden ferocity. “To accept a magical girl contract is to sell your soul and sign your death warrant. Do _not_ do it.”

Sayaka nodded with Madoka as she thought. It was hard to be suspicious of Homura. Sayaka knew she should try to remain objective and give equal consideration to all sides of this wish business. Should probably poke more at that... well, at least a _lack of agreement_ that she hadn't gone nuts-- even if all of Sayaka's instincts said _there lie dragons_ on that topic. Technically, Sayaka supposed Homura could just be a masterful actress. Discouraging them from contracting for her own ends, though Sayaka had no idea how their not contracting would work to her advantage. But even if Sayaka had suspicions about the girl's motives, she didn't know what else could explain that temporary death thing. That was a huge chunk of solid evidence. Well, as solid as magical spiritual superhero soul stuff could get. She thought. Probably.

Metaphysical junk was _hard_.

Sayaka was fooling herself if she thought she could maintain her doubt. She took a shaky breath and looked up at Homura. “Th-thanks, Stranger Danger.”

Homura blinked in surprise, her gravity dispelled by confusion. “What for?”

“W-well,” Sayaka stammered. “You-- you saved us, and then you've warned us so much. I mean... I dunno what I would've done if I just met Kyubey by myself. I could've-- me and Madoka could've-- um. I know-- I know you've said stuff about magical girls not being heroes... or something, but, um....” Her cheeks burned. “You're... you're kinda a hero to me.” She shyly glanced up at Homura.

Stunned. Violet eyes wide, lips parted slightly as she stared-- a picture of disbelief.

“Yes! Me, too!” Madoka added enthusiastically. “I-- I'm not very smart, and I-- w-well--”

“Don't say that,” Homura snapped with a scowl. Madoka squeaked and looked upset. Homura softened her face. “Do not say you are not smart. You sell yourself short.”

Madoka's cheeks flushed. Sayaka grinned and poked Madoka's waist to make her squeak again. “I keep trying to tell her that.” She looked at Homura again, feeling bolder. “You really are a good friend. And I don't care what you think. You're a hero.”

Homura stubbornly mumbled a denial, cleared her throat, and shifted around awkwardly. Her face was strangely conflicted.

“What? You saved us,” Sayaka teased. This was more her element. “I don't know if we could be called innocents-- well, except for Madoka--” she poked her friend again and got a little swat for her effort-- “but you saved us from the Familiars and you're teaching us a lot to protect us even more.” She wagged a finger at Homura as though scolding her, but winked and smiled. “So don't you argue, young lady.”

Homura scowled at her, but Sayaka swore she saw a kind of frustrated fondness in it. Reminded her of the faces her older cousin would make at her younger cousin whenever he threw his arms skyward in the face of sibling brattiness. A kinda _you are infuriating but I can't really bring myself to hate you_ attitude. Knowing what Sayaka did now, it made a lot of sense, though. Homura seemed to get frustrated whenever they got optimistic about anything relating to magical girls. Like she wanted them to think a certain way and their circling back to positives over and over was-- Oh.

With a sobering flash of insight, Sayaka's teasing smile evaporated and she asked, “Have you... tried to talk girls like us out of this before?”

The magical girl's face went utterly blank as she stared at Sayaka. At length, she said, “Yes.”

Sayaka squirmed. There was something eerie in the way Homura was staring at her. “Did... they listen to you?”

“Rarely, if ever,” Homura immediately replied, her face creepily intense.

Madoka fluttered her hands from her lap to her teacup and back again. “What... happened to them?”

Homura's grave face turned to her. With a thousand-yard stare, she answered, “Dead or Witches. All of them.”

There wasn't really much that could be said to that. A long silence stretched between them.

Hands curled into fists and drawn to her chest, Madoka looked determined and said, “We'll listen to you. Right, Sayaka?”

Sayaka nodded. Being a hero seemed to be much more emotionally difficult than she had thought. Which made Homura's heroism even more admirable in her eyes, but that sounded like something that would just piss off the magical girl-- and Sayaka didn't want to make more problems for her. More tension seemed to bleed out of Homura at Madoka's pronouncement. It made Sayaka relax again, too. She cleared her throat. “Um. What should we do if we find one of those floaty Witch-door things?”

Homura settled back and picked up her teacup. “Call me. Madoka has my number.” She hesitated before her sip. “Ah. Both of you text me so I can add you to my contacts.” After her sip, she looked at them seriously. “Do not go into the labyrinths. You will not be able to contact me inside and you may die.”

“What should we do about Kyu-- the... Incubator?” Madoka asked timidly.

“Refuse it. Tell it to leave you alone. Say it is wasting its time trying to convince you to contract,” Homura said with cold rage in her eyes. “It will probably still loiter about, waiting for an opportunity to recruit you in some kind of emergency. Refuse it.”

Sayaka nodded firmly. “And what about... Tomoe?”

Homura sighed deeply and contemplated the surface of her tea for a long moment. “Be polite. Ask more leading questions if you wish. If you do that, be cautious.”

“Um. Can-- can we tell her to talk to you?” Madoka asked.

Tilting her head in thought, Homura slowly said, “I suppose.” Her face firmed again. “Keep in mind, though, that she has already sold her soul. There is no turning back for her. The best you can hope for is that she will... join me in discouraging other girls from contracting.”

“We-- we could be her friends, though,” Madoka said hopefully. “And maybe-- maybe you could work together!”

Sayaka sat straighter and enthusiastically said, “Yeah! Be a magical girl duo!”

Annnd Homura's scowl was back. Damn. “This is not some happy little manga,” she said disapprovingly.

Sayaka deflated. “I know. I just... two heads are better than one, right? You could have each other's backs.” She looked down at her lap, then up at Homura. Quietly, she said, “I just... want you both to be okay.”

Homura stared at her flatly, then closed her eyes and sighed. “I will remain... open to the possibility. But unless Tomoe learns the truth and does not snap, I absolutely do _not_ want her at my back.”

Sayaka and Madoka flinched. Sayaka swallowed hard. “That's... that's reasonable.”

Homura nodded curtly and settled with her tea again.

“Can... I ask you a question?” Madoka asked cautiously.

“Of course.”

“The Incubator said he doesn't know you. But Mami said you can only be a magical girl if you contract with him. So. Um.” Madoka wrung her hands and hesitantly asked, “So how... are you a magical girl?”

The magical girl sighed tiredly. “My situation is... extremely complicated. I have taken measures to... obscure my origins. Deliberately. If it is telling the truth about not knowing me, then that means that my methods are working well.” She looked at them askance. “The less it knows about me, the better. I know my secrecy must be a point of contention for you. I apologize, but you must understand that I need to be extremely careful in controlling dissemination of information about me. I do not mean to say that I think you will deliberately pass information on to the Incubator, but it is safest to prevent accidental disclosures which could be used against me.”

 _Like in a spy movie or something_ , Sayaka thought but was smart enough not to say.

Madoka nodded, then shifted around nervously. “Is there-- is there anything we can do to help you?” she asked with concern.

Homura pursed her lips and sighed. “For now, tell me whenever you are approached by Tomoe, the Incubator, or any other magical girls. Refer to the Incubator as Kyubey to minimize its suspicion about what I know. Call me if you notice any labyrinths or other signs of Witches and Familiars.”

Sayaka perked up. “What kind of signs?”

Sayaka seared the following conversation about odd behaviors and Witches' Kisses into her memory. If watching for such things and distracting victims in thrall was all she could do to protect people, she was going to make sure she was a damn expert.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sayaka's hero worship transferred lol. First come, first served.


	50. NEUNUNDVIERZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have just realized this story is two years old and over 200k words. What have I done. I never thought this would go this farrrrrr. Thanks for the support, everyone! Without your encouragement, I may have just fizzled out. Thank you for your patience every time adulting sinks its claws into me and gobbles up my time.
> 
> By dates, technically last time's chapter could have been the “Happy Second Birthday, Infinity!” chapter. But because I didn't realize it, here.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**NEUNUNDVIERZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

After Madoka and Sayaka left, Yoruichi jumped up on the table. “Call Kisuke. I may as well brief you both at once.”

Homura nodded and did so, setting the phone to speaker as she lay it on the table.

“Hello, hello, hello! Kisuke Urahara, magical girl support team resident mad scientist, at your service!” he crowed. “How may I help you?”

“I need to make a report, Kisuke,” Yoruichi drawled.

“As you wish, magical girl support team resident mascot! Fire away!”

Homura felt her face twitch in disapproval. Yoruichi glanced at Homura, rolled her eyes powerfully, and flexed her shoulders in a feline shrug as if to say, _He's always like this. Get used to it_. Homura wondered if she'd ever learn to take the man's irreverence in stride the way the cat had.

Yoruichi related the weekend's events in a professionally clipped tone. A lot of it was disturbing, but Homura's eyes widened in disbelief when the change in Sayaka came up.

“Well, at least it seems your role reversal gambit was successful,” Kisuke said thoughtfully.

 _It can't be this simple_ , Homura thought. _No way._

“Yoruichi, your thoughts on Tomoe?”

The cat curled up near the phone and spoke pensively. “Excellent in battle. Her skills are definitely seated officer level-- perhaps even third seat. Edging into lieutenant level, but with some key flaws and need for improvement. The most glaring is that once she becomes focused on a single target, her situational awareness for secondary threats gets dangerously sloppy.” Yoruichi tipped her head inquisitively and glanced at Homura, who nodded her agreement. Kyōko had said as much in multiple timelines and she had seen it herself. Yoruichi returned her nod and continued, “If she's only been fighting for two years, it's very promising. With some formal training and more experience... _well_. Now, her _power level_ is definitely on par with a lieutenant. And she can do some _fascinatingly complex_ things with her reiatsu. The technique she called Tiro Finale was impressive. I think that attack could take out a Menos Grande.”

She still wasn't entirely sure what a Menos Grande was, and Mami did have flaws, but...“The Rose Garden Witch and her Familiars are not particularly strong or clever,” Homura interrupted. “You likely did not see Tomoe at full strength-- nor at her tactical best. She was not our leader simply because she had the longest... tenure among the five of us.”

The cat gave Homura the distinct impression of raising her eyebrows in interest despite the limitations of her feline face. “Oh?”

Homura nodded. “I learned how to plot strategy and tactics from her. She is excellent at devising ways to combine our powers for maximum force multiplication. Her improvisation is similarly strong.” Homura pressed a finger to her chin thoughtfully. “The fault in her situational awareness is a major handicap, though.”

“My, my,” Kisuke said with a hum. “Yoruichi. Her mental state?”

“Confused, for now,” Yoruichi answered. “The girls gave her some food for thought. It's too soon to say how she's processing it.”

“Hmm, hmm, hmm. Miss Akemi?”

“Yes?”

“In previous timelines, have you broached the subject with Tomoe by outright stating facts or asking leading questions?”

Homura thought back. “Factual statements,” she said slowly. “Which she then doubts.”

“Maybe figuring it out herself based on leading questions will let her process it better.”

“Who knows?” Homura said doubtfully. It seemed extremely unlikely to her.

“Ahhh, chin up, Miss Akemi!” Kisuke cheered. “We'll figure something out for her.” He ignored Homura's sour hum to ask Yoruichi, “According to the calendar from last time, Noriko Chiasa will go missing in Kazamino tomorrow. What are your plans?”

“Following her. Provided there isn't a barrier around that city, too.” Yoruichi tilted her head curiously. “Do you have any ideas about what to do with the Asunaro barrier?”

“Yep,” Kisuke said cheerfully.

“Care to share?” she asked drily.

“Nope!”

Homura scowled and opened her mouth to object, but Yoruichi loudly said, “Whatever,” to cover her words. Homura glared at the cat. Completely unrepentant, Yoruichi continued, “Anyway, I'll follow Chiasa. See if she's a magical girl, see if she turns. Tip off Akemi if she needs to hunt a Witch.”

“Excellent,” Kisuke said. “Ah, Miss Akemi. I just had a thought. Would you mind writing out descriptions of each of the Witches you can remember having encountered? It could be useful to be able to match Witches to their human identities. We may be able to establish some patterns.”

Homura raised a brow, thought, then agreed with him. She needed to update her extensive file on Walpurgisnacht, anyway. After they wrapped up the call, she sat at her desk and started writing and sketching in fits and starts as Yoruichi lazed about and groomed herself.

§ x § x §

The next day, Yoruichi accompanied Homura to school. She watched with interest as Homura's mood lightened when Madoka jogged up and greeted her cheerfully. Useful. She greeted the girl with a purr and an ankle-rub, then slunk off into the trees when the girls left.

She didn't want to look un-catlike in case the Incubator saw her, so she took a meandering, vaguely-eastern route, pretending to chase birds and mice, getting into a hissing running battle with a stray, and suckering a man with a Kazamino police badge into giving her scraps from his lunch at an outdoor cafe. She then followed behind him as he walked back to Kazamino, meowing as though begging for more food the whole way. She didn't notice a barrier like at Asunaro. When the man shoved her away with his foot and went into a building, Yoruichi had the perfect opportunity to wander around Kazamino. She took a circuitous route toward her target's school while mentally reviewing the relevant portion of the news article passed on from the previous timeline.

_Noriko Chiasa (16)... is the class representative for her first year high school class. Meticulous and responsible, Chiasa was known to be dedicated to her office to the point of obsession. Investigation found that many of the “late club meetings” she told her parents about seemed to not exist.... Some prodding... revealed... an admission of a confrontation in a classroom the afternoon she went missing. No one has seen her since she stormed out of the school, upset._

By intently focusing her attention forward, Yoruichi was able to feel a person with elevated reiatsu from four blocks away from the school. It wasn't especially strong, but definitely present-- and definitely tainted by the Hollow-like reiatsu that needed to be removed from Soul Gems. That probably confirmed Chiasa as a magical girl.

Yoruichi decided to avoid approaching the school too closely, changing course to pick a fight with another alley cat and sift through dumpsters until she felt the reiatsu source flare in distress and shift darker. Her quarry darted around erratically-- perhaps running around in the building's halls?-- before taking off in one direction. The angle wasn't too far off, so Yoruichi moved to intercept. She managed to fake chasing a rat out onto a sidewalk just as Chiasa barreled around a corner. The girl tripped on her and sprawled to the pavement as Yoruichi yowled in fake pain. Yoruichi regained her feet and turned around. The girl was the same as in the once-and-future article's accompanying photo: Dark hair long and straight with a precise part, black sailor uniform with red kerchief, brown eyes. Chiasa was struggling to her feet, audibly sobbing. Yoruichi hissed at Chiasa, but the girl ignored her and ran again, uncaring of having lost one shoe in the collision and skinned her knees and palms on the pavement. Yoruichi raised her hackles and charged after the girl, snarling as though enraged and seeking to attack her. She pounced and scratched Chiasa's ankle as she stumbled around another corner, deliberately snagging her claws on the girl's sock so she could be dragged for several steps and yowl in pain-- an excuse to look even more enraged. Chiasa was hysterical beyond ability to notice the claws and it was best to look like she had more reason to follow the girl.

After zigzagging through the neighborhood with the Hollow reiatsu intensifying with every step, Chiasa fell to her knees in a narrow street between the backs of a strip mall and a skating rink. She sobbed harder, building into a roar of rage. The girl jerkily crawled toward a pile of junk behind a dry cleaner and started throwing objects like a toddler having a tantrum, hangers and clothespins breaking against the ground and walls as her reiatsu rose and made her throws more forceful. Yoruichi made a point of yowling and backing to the other side of the alley with her hackles raised as though she was angry but frightened by the power surge. With a final sound of despairing fury, the silver ring on the girl's left hand sparked with red light. An egg-shaped garnet crackling with black energy manifested over her hand. Yoruichi's feline instincts shrieked _danger! run!_ so she complied out of convenience-- it would make her look more legitimately catlike and she had no desire to get sucked into a labyrinth, anyway. She took off like a shot and leapt from the ground to a block wall around a dumpster to an awning over a delivery bay. Chiasa's Soul Gem exploded as Yoruichi scrambled to the far end and jumped toward a ledge. The force behind her slammed her into the wall ahead of her. She acted dazed and looked back.

Chiasa's body was sprawled on the ground, limbs askew and school uniform disheveled, thrown into a wall by the force of the explosion. Something akin to a hollowed-out silver pendulum floated over her and exuded Hollow-like reiatsu, growing until it was twice as tall as the girl had been and sprouting spikes from its cardinal points. Yoruichi had hardly registered the scene when the power imploded, retracting to the rapidly shrinking pendulum-- Grief Seed?-- and visibly warping reality around it while dragging refuse and Chiasa's empty body into it like a vacuum. Everything disappeared into a single point as suddenly as the reiatsu had burst outward. The alley settled back to normal. The only sign anything had happened was an area with no litter with a slight heat haze in the center. The entire transformation had taken perhaps twenty seconds.

Yoruichi stared for a moment, then let her cat instincts guide her into hissing once and slinking away. Hackles still raised as though edgy, she jumped from surface to surface until she crested the nearest roof while glancing back over her shoulder. She hissed again, then noticed a scent and turned around.

The Incubator was perched on a rooftop air conditioner condenser not three meters away from her, watching her impassively.

Little bastard. Observing Chiasa? Or following “Akemi's cat”?

Well, nothing for it. She had to stay in character, after all.

Snarling fiercely, Yoruichi lunged forward to attack. The creature didn't panic as it had the previous day, coolly evading about half of her attacks and showing no reaction when Yoruichi injured it. It also fought back to an extent, using its ear-like appendages as flails far more effectively than in their last encounter.

Yoruichi allowed herself to be hit several times to be convincing and gauge its strength. She got the distinct impression it was holding back, testing her in the same way she was testing it. Yoruichi became convinced that its helplessness in Kaname's room had been a ploy. She grimly loosened her control of her feline side and let it fight more instinctively, hoping to muddy the waters and allay suspicion. She backed off for a moment, made a hissing display of dominance, and attacked again. The Incubator fended her off expressionlessly, finally retreating when she succeeded in gouging out one of its eyes. It flickered from paw's reach ahead of her to a much higher rooftop across the street in the blink of an eye. It showed no sign of pain, settling back into impassiveness as it sat and looked down at her from safety with one beady red eye while its ruined partner dangled out of its socket.

There was no way Yoruichi could follow without giving away that she could use shunpo, so she settled for pacing and watching it with her hackles raised, yowling resentfully. It watched her for ten minutes with no sign of moving. Yoruichi decided to feign losing interest and leaving.

Not wanting to appear to intelligently run back to Akemi to fetch her and lead her to the Witch, Yoruichi wandered vaguely southeast-- away from Mitakihara and most recorded magical girl and Witch activity. She acted like she was still keyed up from the fight, clawing the hell out of an insistent tomcat here, perching on a fence to hiss taunts at a dog there. She stalled for hours with her wandering before meandering back to Akemi's neighborhood in the silence of the wee hours. One window still displayed a dim light through the curtains-- Akemi's desk lamp, she thought. Akemi's reiatsu felt alert, so Yoruichi went to the front door to scratch and meow plaintively until the girl opened it and looked down at her.

“Ah. There you are. Where have you been?”

Yoruichi made a show of hurrying to snake around her ankles and meow obnoxiously. Akemi was quick on the uptake.

“I suppose you finally decided to come home because you are hungry,” she said with tired annoyance.

Yoruichi flopped on her side, rolled on her back, and did her best to look cute and apologetic.

Akemi huffed. “Yes, yes. Come in. I'll feed you.”

Yoruichi entered and didn't relax until the door was firmly closed. Minding the angles to the windows, she muttered, “Close the drapes over the curtains and get ready for bed. We'll talk tomorrow. I may have been followed--”

“The Incubator?” Akemi asked coldly.

“Yes. I think it was trying to figure me out. I don't want it to see me speaking, and we need to act like you forced yourself to stay up and went to bed when your annoying cat got home. If it's surveilling the house, it should sense your reiatsu settle into sleep.”

Akemi pursed her lips unhappily, but nodded.

§ x § x §

Though impatient to learn what had happened elsewhere the previous day, Homura appreciated the second normal school day in a row with her friends. When Hitomi inquired after Yoruichi's absence the previous afternoon, she mentioned that her cat had been out annoyingly late. She found herself amused by Sayaka's cheerful cackling and jokes about Yoruichi being a two-AM troublemaker. Madoka and Hitomi were assigned cleaning duty for the day, so Sayaka and Homura stayed and helped. The normalcy was surreal for Homura.

When Hitomi ran off to whichever boring lesson her mother had scheduled for the day, the other three girls left more slowly. They greeted Yoruichi in the usual spot and meandered down the deserted path. Homura's magical senses tripped to alertness just before they turned a corner. Mami Tomoe stood waiting in the center of the path, frowning as she held her school bag in one hand. The Incubator was in a tree behind her, tail a sinuous metronome.

There went her normal-ish day. It had been nice while it lasted.

The girls stopped in their tracks. Madoka darted down and snagged Yoruichi under the armpits as the cat snarled and tried to lunge toward the Incubator, then backed up and held her firmly against her chest. Homura and Mami silently sized each other up for several painfully long seconds.

“What is your problem with Kyubey?” Mami finally asked in a clipped tone.

Homura lifted one brow. Mami hadn't bothered with politeness or greetings even as a formality. That indicated a dangerous mood for her. Great. “I have many problems with it,” Homura answered blandly. “You will have to be more specific.”

 _It may be best for this discussion to be a private matter between contracted magical girls_ , the Incubator interrupted.

Homura's eyes narrowed. Did it not want the potential contractees to overhear something? It was also farther away from Mami than she would expect. In some timelines, she had seen it behave similarly when it disapproved of a magical girl's decision but seemed to want to observe anyway. Or when it thought something catastrophic would happen-- especially if there were uncontracted girls also present who might make a wish to fix it. Which was it?

“We're staying,” Sayaka declared stubbornly, stepping up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Homura in a show of support. Madoka nodded firmly.

Well. That was interesting.

Mami's frown deepened as she looked from face to face, then settled on Homura once more. “You're trying to convince girls not to contract and you even attacked him. _Why?_ ”

Honest surprise flitted across Homura's face. “While I admit to an adversarial attitude toward it, I assure you I have _not_ attacked it.” This time. Yet.

“Oh?” Mami said archly. “If you didn't attack him, why did he come to my apartment Monday morning with extensive injuries? He was torn up and bleeding so badly I couldn't even see the wounds well. He was only partially coherent and mentioned your name and an attack.” She dropped her bag and crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. “How can you deny it?”

Homura ground her teeth. The Incubator had sent its damaged terminal to Mami after the incident at Madoka's house. Of course the little monster had found a new lever. Of course. “I--”

“Ah-- ah, um, I can explain!” Madoka interrupted. She looked determined, then drew back timidly when everyone looked at her, then pulled herself together again. “When I woke up on Monday, the-- Kyubey had come in my window and was sitting on my shelves. The ones on the wall over my bed. Yoruichi woke up and attacked i-him.” She held Yoruichi up a bit. Everyone could hear the cat's steady growling and see her looking at the Incubator with murder in her eyes. “It got... really nasty. There was blood everywhere.”

“Akemi wasn't even in Mitakihara early that morning,” Sayaka added defiantly. “She was on a train coming back from Tokyo. She came straight to school from the station.”

 _How do you know that for certain? Did you just take her at her word?_ the Incubator asked calmly.

“I wasn't talking to _you_ ,” Sayaka sniffed.

“If you really wanted, you could probably find security footage of me at the station,” Homura dared it. She tilted her head and looked at it with heavy eyelids. “Did you really lie to Tomoe? I have never known you to lie directly.”

Mami looked at the Incubator from the corner of her eye, face shifting toward uncertainty.

 _But I have never known you at all_ , the Incubator parried.

Sayaka dropped her own bag and stepped forward aggressively, fists clenched at her sides. “No! You don't get to do that!”

“Do what?” Mami asked, surprised.

“Change the subject!”

Homura stared at the back of the blue-haired girl's head and couldn't hide her shock. Having Sayaka's loyal hair-trigger suspicion wielded for _her_ benefit was _bizarre_.

Sayaka jabbed a finger toward the Incubator. “ _Maybe_ if you don't want to get clawed all to hell and back, you shouldn't sneak into girls' rooms to watch them sleep!” She took another challenging step forward and shook her finger for outraged emphasis. “Are you some kind of _pervert?!_ ”

Homura felt her face contort horribly as her throat made a garbled sound, choking back a hysterical laugh. Madoka gasped and took another step back as if she hadn't even looked at it that way before. Mami's jaw dropped and she looked appalled.

The Incubator's tail paused in its constant movement. It blinked in what appeared to be real surprise, but you could never tell with the thing. _I am physically incapable of what humans would refer to as sexual perversion_ , it said. _Madoka Kaname allowed a nonhuman being to accompany her in her bed. I do not understand why you are upset by my presence in her room._

“So you admit it!” Sayaka crowed, pumping a fist in front of her in triumph.

_I am as incapable of perversion toward humans as your domesticated household p--_

“The difference is your sentience,” Homura interrupted dispassionately. “Regardless of your... proclivities--” she saw Mami's face twitch with dismay-- “trespassing is generally frowned upon. As is stalking.”

“St-- _stalking?_ ” Madoka squeaked.

 _You deliberately misconstrue my intentions_ , the Incubator accused.

“Do I really?” Homura asked coolly.

_You will characterize my words negatively to Madoka Kaname and Sayaka Miki no matter what I say,_ the Incubator said, its tail resuming its hypnotic movement. _Further discussion on this topic appears pointless._

Everyone stared at each other silently. Stalemate.

Mami shifted uncomfortably, searched their faces, then glanced at the Incubator. “Was it really the cat, Kyubey?”

 _Akemi's_ , it answered. _I tried to say as much. I apologize if I was unclear while incoherent. But I suspect Homura Akemi has trained it to attack me, as it was extremely vicious._

“First, that is speculation,” Homura argued. “Second, I have done no such thing.” She tilted her head to one side, considering. She decided to take a cautious gamble based on Yoruichi's intel. “A being such as yourself should be aware that cats are excellent at detecting the supernatural.”

“Oh! That's what he said on Sunday!” Sayaka said brightly as she stepped to the side of the path and angled herself so she could see both Homura and Mami.

“Fight and flight are any animal's main options,” Homura continued, “and my cat is particularly aggressive. I allow her to wander when I am at school instead of shutting her in my house because hunting during the day keeps her from getting... ah, _combative_ with me and shredding my furniture out of frustration. It was a problem when she was a kitten.” Homura hoped that sounded reasonable. Something like that had come up in the reading on cat ownership she had done when she assumed her new cover. She decided to take another small gamble. “Her closeness to me appears to have made her more sensitive to the supernatural, though I do not understand the magical mechanism. If there is one. It may just be frequent exposure making her more observant.”

The doubt on Mami's face took on a worried cast. She looked over her shoulders and into the trees where the Incubator sat silently. “Kyubey....”

The Incubator faced her, expressionless. _It is a plausible explanation. However, I find it suspiciously convenient._

“And _I_ find it suspiciously convenient that your alleged incoherence gave Tomoe the impression that I attacked you directly,” Homura parried.

“Yeah!” Sayaka practically cheered from the sidelines.

Again: _Bizarre_.

The Incubator didn't bother to argue back. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them all.

Mami finally pulled herself together and firmly said, “None of this explains why you are trying to discourage these girls from contracting.”

Homura raised a brow. “You must at least be aware of the physical dangers involved. Among other considerations, I believe this aspect is extremely understated when Kyubey proposes its contract.”

Frowning and putting her hands on her hips, Mami accepted part of the argument but pulled at the thread of vagueness. “Among what other considerations?”

Homura stared at her expressionlessly and debated her response. She could feel Madoka's worried gaze at her back. Sayaka was looking to her face for some kind of cue. Homura settled on, “I doubt you would believe me. Kaname and Miki asked you certain questions the other day, did they not?”

Mami's face twitched in a way Homura couldn't quite put a name to. Nothing positive, but not quite sour. “They did.”

“Then I suggest you give those questions serious thought before you ask me more.”

“You put them up to asking those questions.”

“You could say that,” Homura agreed with a small shrug.

The blonde frowned deeply and stared for several seconds. She switched tacks. “How does their not contracting work to your advantage?” Gold eyes darted over Homura's shoulder to Madoka and back again. “Kaname in particular has a great deal of potential. She would be a powerful magical girl. Anyone with magic can feel it,” she said, prompting Madoka to squeak in surprise. Mami arched a brow. “Oh? Haven't you told her?”

“No, I have not,” Homura agreed easily. “Her magical potential is irrelevant in the face of the risks involved.”

“I disagree,” Mami said tartly. “The decision is hers, of course, but her power makes her risk of defeat far smaller than for many magical girls.” She paused and considered Homura with narrowed eyes. “She could rival your power. Possibly both of us. She could become your rival, period. Does that bother you? That's the attitude of a child.”

“The prospect of her being more powerful than me does not bother me at all,” Homura replied, casually running a hand through her hair and flipping it over her shoulder. “If she should contract, I have utmost faith that she would never seek to contend with other magical girls. Her heart is too kind and friendly.” She heard a small _meep_ behind her, but ignored it to glance at Sayaka. The blue-haired girl looked like she was hanging on her every word. “Similar with Miki, by the way,” Homura tossed out as she looked back at Mami. She saw Sayaka perk up in her peripheral vision. “She is too honest and forthright. Contending with peers of her own volition would conflict with her morality. If either contracted, I would expect them to form alliances instead of rivalries. I am confident they would only combat other magical girls in self-defense. Therefore, I have no need to view either of them as a threat.”

Sayaka had no awareness of her own nebulous magic, but Homura and Mami could feel it quivering with pride. Mami's mouth twisted into disapproval for a moment. She had noticed the ploy. Interestingly, she chose not to call it out.

“There are other ways they could rival you,” Mami objected. “They would compete for limited resources.”

“Wait, what?” Sayaka asked.

Mami's face eased as she turned to Sayaka. “There is a limited supply of Grief Seeds in any given area,” she explained. “Magical girls need them to replenish their magic. The more magical girls in an area, the higher the chance of the supply of Grief Seeds being too thin. That limits the recovery and fighting power of the magical girls competing for Grief Seeds.” Her face hardened again as she turned back to Homura, but continued to speak to Sayaka. “Stopping you from contracting means there's more for her.”

“What's wrong with that?” asked Madoka. Everyone turned to her in surprise. Uncertain pink eyes darted from face to face during a long silence. “Why-- why is it bad?” she asked as she hugged Yoruichi closer.

Yoruichi, for her part, was still relentlessly glaring at the Incubator with the eyes of a predator. Deliberately not reacting to the conversation or all the eyes turned her way as a non-sentient animal would in the presence of prey.

“It's like hoarding,” Mami finally said, looking baffled. “It's selfish.”

Madoka fidgeted in place. “But... she-- magical girls-- you all really really need Grief Seeds, right? So you can--” she swiftly glanced at Homura and away again, seeming to remind herself of what she was supposed to avoid saying-- “you can keep your magic strong enough to keep fighting and stay... safe. Like you said. Right?”

Mami uncertainly said, “Yes....”

“Then-- then, keeping Homura safe is more important to me. Um, and you too, Mami,” Madoka said more strongly as she straightened. “I can't think of anything to wish for that would be more important than that. Contracting when I know I would put Homura and other magical girls in danger by using up the things you need... that would be selfish of _me_. I think. Um.”

Homura and Mami stared at her, dumbfounded, as Sayaka snapped back to certainty with a loud, “Yeah! What Madoka said!” Madoka blushed brightly and looked shy. Turning to Mami, Sayaka continued, “It's totally reasonable! It protects her _and_ us!” She firmly planted her hands on her hips in a challenging pose and demanded, “What's your problem with that?”

Mami just stared, mouth working speechlessly.

Homura felt like she had been shunted to a parallel universe. Or that Sayaka had been replaced by someone from a parallel universe.

After a long silence, Homura cleared her throat and diplomatically said, “I believe you have a great deal to think about, Miss Tomoe. Perhaps we should pause this conversation for now and resume it in a few days' time. If you are willing, of course.”

Surprised, Mami asked, “You... want to talk to me more?”

“Of course,” Homura replied easily. “Provided we can keep it peaceful, that is.” She tilted her head and allowed her face to soften a bit. “As I told Kaname and Miki, I know you by reputation. I have heard that you mentor new magical girls and avoid contending with them. That you have a code of ethics you hold yourself to despite great personal risk. I think you would be less likely to attack someone who... I do not wish to say _opposes_ , as I do not wish to be in opposition with you. Perhaps... someone who challenges your world view.” She dipped her head forward and looked up at Mami through her bangs. “I am under the impression that you would never attack a fellow magical girl unless attacked first. Or would you attack me over words and ideas alone?”

Her words very obviously caught Mami off-balance. The gamble worked. Maybe Yoruichi was right about her usual bluntness being off-putting.

“Of course I wouldn't!” Mami answered after a moment of scrambling for a response.

Homura straightened and raised her eyebrows. More pleasantly, she said, “Then perhaps we may yet be able to work together.”

“W-what?”

After a thoughtful pause, Homura carefully said, “Being a magical girl can be... a lonely business. I am the only survivor of my original team. I... miss it. It would be... nice... to be able to trust someone to have my back again. But I have also had other girls take advantage of that trust. I... apologize if I am distant and suspicious. I hope you can understand how the... politics, I suppose, of magical girls would make me exceedingly cautious.”

 

Mami floundered, mouth opening and closing as her face cycled through many expressions. She was obviously torn between her original perception of Homura and the diplomatic offer of alliance, if not friendship. Homura thought she had managed to angle her words at Mami's emotional weak points. She deemed it a tentative success, if only for the moment.

Her mind screeched to a halt when she noticed how deeply manipulative the ploy was. The realization made her sick for a moment. Was she becoming as manipulative as the thing she hated for being manipulative?

Homura glanced toward the Incubator and found it staring at her expressionlessly, tail unusually still. It had probably understood her ploy. She hoped it was as frustrated with her games as she was by its games.

 _Games_ , she thought darkly.

“I know--,” Sayaka blurted out. She stopped and took a deep breath when everyone looked at her. “I _know_ being a magical girl isn't, like, sunshine and rainbows. I guess. But if you two could work together... wouldn't that be _awesome?!_ ”

“And we-- we can help!” Madoka chirped.

Homura whipped her head around to give her an outraged look. _She promised she wouldn't contract!_

Immediately interpreting the look correctly, Madoka waved one hand in panicked denial. “I don't mean by contracting-- ah!” She juggled her grip as Yoruichi tried to scrabble out of the girl's newly one-handed hold, intent on the Incubator. The cat snarled as Madoka secured her. “I mean-- like, like with Homura-- we can call you if we find a labyrinth, or we can wait for you when you go... um, hunting? And maybe you can come to our houses for dinner sometimes.” She lowered her head shyly. “It... it seems to make Homura happier, anyway. So... Oh! Or you can... you can talk to us when fighting makes you sad, or... you know... um.”

“Yeah! We can be your normal sidekicks!” Sayaka cheered, causing Homura to whip back around to her. Sayaka ignored her face and stubbornly plowed on. “Since we're already in on the secret, you don't have to keep secrets from us! We can be like... like... ummmmm.” She gestured wildly as she grasped for an example. “Like that arcade guy in Sailor Moon! You know-- the guy who finds out the magical girls have a secret base under his arcade and he's totally cool with it? That guy! We can be like him! Only better!”

As Mami's expression shifted more toward optimism, Homura couldn't decide if she wanted to thank Sayaka or strangle her. She was doing _so_ much better this time around, but that underlying fantasy was proving to be _hell_ to get rid of.

“I'll-- I'll-- think... about that,” Mami stammered.

Homura nodded politely. “I look forward to our next meeting.” She glared past Mami at the Incubator. “ _You_ , however, would do well to avoid us. Kaname and Miki are under my protection. I have no love for you. And my cat will likely attack you on sight. Consider this your warning.”

The Incubator made no reply.

Looking back to Mami, Homura said, “You know how to find me. I just ask that you do not surprise me from behind. I may attack on reflex. I have learned the hard way to beware ambushes. You understand.”

Mami looked troubled. “I... understand.”

“Good afternoon, then, Miss Tomoe. I will see you soon,” Homura said with a slight bow. She glanced at the other girls. “Madoka, Sayaka, would you like to come to my house? My friend in Tokyo sent me even more cookies. I can't eat them all myself and it would be a waste for them to go stale. I'll help you with the math homework.”

“Score!” Sayaka shouted, pumping a fist and hurrying to retrieve her book bag.

Homura picked up Madoka's bag so the girl could keep Yoruichi restrained. As they walked past Mami, Madoka paused and said, “It was nice seeing you again, Mami. Please... please stay safe, okay?”

Homura made a point of leaving her back open to Mami as they left even though she felt a paranoid itch between her shoulders. She glanced back as they turned a corner. The blonde looked beyond confused.

And the Incubator had disappeared from its bough, leaving Mami alone again.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am finding that writing Mami breaks my damn heart.
> 
> Sayaka is still hard to write, but I think I finally have a feel for her. I was worried that I had botched her and made her too much like her Rebellion self. She seemed to be fairly reasonable and introspective BEFORE she contracted. Kinda impressively so at moments, considering the rooftop conversation about wishes in episode two.


	51. FÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Got a job and it's going well, wooooo! See my ff.n profile for some other story progress notes. I have more written, but I've had to go back and correct myself a couple times so I'm being extra careful.
> 
> Bleach-only folks: I swear to God the way this Witch attacks and the method of defeat are canon.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**F ÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

After an otherwise pleasant afternoon of cookies and homework followed by another round of Yoruichi reporting to Homura and Kisuke, Homura readied to leave.

 

“Where you going?” Yoruichi asked lowly.

“Hunting,” Homura answered. “You need to stay here so it does not look like you are leading me.”

Yoruichi sat primly and asked, “Are you sure that's wise?” with a frown in her voice.

Homura waved one hand dismissively as she tapped papers together and shoved them in her shield for later. “I am quite familiar with all of the Witches that appear in this area. I have fought them countless times.”

“Isn't that what you said about that Walpurgisnacht thing?”

Homura stilled. She slowly turned and looked at the cat. After a long shared stare, Homura warily said, “I will... keep that in mind.”

The cat nodded firmly. “Now. Will you be crossing into Kyōko Sakura's territory?”

Shrugging, Homura said, “Possibly. But I can handle her.”

Yoruichi lowered her chin and looked up with heavy-lidded eyes. “Don't you go and get cocky on me, Akemi.”

Homura glanced back over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “I won't.”

She transformed and took to the rooftops, first wandering west before detouring south and east, skirting then entering Shinchi. She had never ventured that far south before. Her scalp prickled and she felt watched; following her senses, she spotted a magical girl perched on the crossbeam of a radio tower. Though distant, Homura could still make out that she wore a puffy powder blue dress, matching boots, and a tall marching band hat. They were too far apart to make out her face, but what caught Homura's eye was the large pink drum major's mace the girl was twirling in lazily threatening arcs. Whenever the pompom on its end moved just so, Homura could see it was wickedly sharp. The girl briefly glowed pink as she flared her considerable power.

Message to _get the hell out of my territory or die_ successfully conveyed.

Homura made a point of facing the girl directly, giving the briefest of stiff bows in apology, and veering north. She could not afford to make any new enemies. It was a good excuse to head more toward where Yoruichi had said the other girl had turned, anyway.

She finally detected a labyrinth when she was patrolling the Mitakihara-Kazamino border. It was a bit west of where Yoruichi had reported seeing the girl turn. Glad to not have to suspiciously find her way to the exact place her cat had been, Homura descended from the tall buildings to the roof of a squat strip mall. Her Soul Gem led her to the cap over a laundromat ventilation shaft that smelled of dryer sheets. She brandished her Soul Gem and instantly recognized the sigil that appeared-- a gold medallion with spider legs added to the knot of a stylized sailor uniform collar. It was the labyrinth of the Witch another Sayaka had sometimes jokingly called the Class Representative Witch. Fairly weak, as Witches went. Moving around inside was a pain without Mami's ribbons, though. She sighed and strode into the labyrinth.

Blinking in the instant shift from night to bright daylight, Homura assessed the environment. As expected, she had appeared at the confluence of a number of thick tightropes that stretched around the blue sky at crazy angles, each serving as a clothesline for a variety of sailor uniform tops at pennant-like intervals. Homura balanced better and mapped the paths. She had never trusted the fluffy white clouds some of the lines disappeared into and the telephone poles below struck her as so easily navigated as to probably be a trap, so she would be avoiding them again. Finally, she spotted the dark shape of the Witch far up and to her left.

Before she set out, Homura decided to experiment. Though it took a good deal of concentration, she managed to conjure up a miniature version of her barrier to hold around her Soul Gem. Her self-assigned test would be to maintain it through the entire fight as practice for more dangerous fights. She breathed deeply and started running along the tightrope.

With her first step from her starting point, school desks and chairs started tumbling out of the sky. Instead of letting them slow her progress, Homura deftly evaded them by leaping from clothesline to clothesline. The first Familiars appeared when she was halfway to the Witch, as usual, but Homura had to force herself not to hesitate.

The Familiars were different.

Usually, the first salvo would be the bottom halves of girls in **m** atching school uniform skirts with ice sk **a** tes attached to **t** heir loafers, all gliding along t **h** e clotheslines and attack **i** ng with blad **e** d kicks and spins. Mostly an annoyance, b **u** t the skates were still sharp. This time, each Familiar had one skate and one bare foot and their knees were bloodied. They skated with one leg while the other leg was extended behind them for balance.

Not particularly interested in giving them a chance to attack, Homura frowned and pulled a pump-action shotgun out of her shield. She kept running, dodging and jumping from tightrope to tightrope as often as possible, freezing time momentarily as needed, blowing a Familiar off the line in front of her when it was more convenient, mechanically dropping spent guns and pulling pre-loaded ones out of her shield as she ran-- a tactic out of Mami's playbook, without Mami's magic guns. She climbed higher as her dodging allowed her and scowled when she was able to make the Witch out clearly.

As **p** er usual, it was the headless body of a girl we **a** ring a school uniform-- black skir **t** , long-sleeved black shi **r** t, a sa **i** lor **c** ollar, and red kerch **i** ef. It had four sleeved **a** rms where there should only have been two. From its skirt, two bare arms protruded where there should have been legs. The jumble of limbs was perched among the clotheslines like a spider. In a new development, all six palms were bloody.

Homura was going to have to pick this apart with Yoruichi later.

As Homura dodged around a desk and a Familiar, the Witch spread open its leg-arms. Myriad skate-Familiars and desks pelted out from under the billowing skirt. Homura tossed the shotgun, brandished her shield, and flared her magic protectively as she charged into the onslaught. The closer she got to the Witch, the harder it became to dodge along the haphazardly-strewn clotheslines. This labyrinth was one that always made Homura miss having Mami on her team. The blonde's ability to weave a direct-route ribbon-bridge tied to the existing clotheslines made this Witch _so_ much easier to defeat.

It took some maneuvering, but Homura finally found a clear shot and froze time to maintain it. She couldn't get close enough to use a bomb as she did whenever Mami could get her closer, so she pulled five RPG launchers out of her shield in quick succession, firing them all up the Witch's skirt. When time resumed, the RPGs exploded and killed the Witch. A concussive shiver ran through all the clotheslines just before they disappeared. Homura calmly let herself fall, lightly landing on her feet in the real world as the Witch's Grief Seed drifted down in front of her.

Homura snatched up her prize with an annoyed huff and took off for home.

§ x § x §

“That's her?”

 _Yes_ , the Incubator confirmed.

“Hm-hmmm- _hmmmmm_ , she wasn't in there very long. And hardly a scratch on her. She must be strong.” The girl sat up straight. She was perched on the catwalk of a high billboard, swinging her legs happily as her long brown ponytail wafted in the breeze. The opera glasses in her hand dissolved into sparkles that retreated into her red Soul Gem. Her blue eyes slid to consider the Incubator suspiciously. “It's not like you to tip me off like this, Kyubey. You don't like to share. She a pain in your ass?”

_Homura Akemi is an anomaly among magical girls. She appeared suddenly. She has not contracted with me._

“Huh? Then how is she a magical girl?”

_I do not know._

A hungry grin stretched across the girl's face. “So she's ultra-rare-- or maybe even _unique?_ ”

_You could say that._

“I _want_ her,” the girl said huskily, then licked her lips. “If she showed up out of the blue, I'd better nab her before she pulls a runner. That girl in black will have to wait-- the Pleiades will still be in Asunaro in a few days. I can't risk losing this one.”

The Incubator remained impassive, neither approving nor disapproving.

§ x § x §

Thursday was rather melancholy for Sayaka. Her friends noticed, but Homura weighed her with a look and stayed silent and Madoka's attention seemed torn between her, Homura, and the glimpse of Mami Tomoe they had caught in the hall during a break. Hitomi watched her closely and was the one to finally say something at lunch.

“Miki, are you feeling unwell?” Hitomi asked quietly as she opened her bento.

Sayaka laughed awkwardly. “Ah, well, no. I'm fine. I'm just worried about Kyōsuke, I guess.”

Hitomi tensed and looked worried. “I thought he was improving?!”

“Yeah. Last week, after a new therapy,” Sayaka explained. “After a few days, the numbness started to creep back. It's not as bad as it was, but Kyōsuke is... upset.”

“Of course he would be,” Hitomi cried. “Do they know what's wrong?”

Sayaka sighed deeply and ran her hand through her hair. “They think maybe they all got too excited and over-used the hand exploring the progress, but it's a guess. They did scans, then they splinted it to force him to rest it for a couple days, and they're doing more tests today.” She pouted. “I haven't been able to visit him since Saturday because of the circus.”

“Then how do you know all of this, Miki?” Homura asked. She didn't sound particularly interested, though. Ah, wait-- she'd never met the guy.

Scowling at her poorly-snapped chopsticks, Sayaka said, “His mom actually texted me an update for once.” She stabbed around her bento distractedly. “She said I could visit today if I want, but says he's been angry at everybody who goes in his room. I dunno if I believe her. I've never seen him like that when _I_ visit him. It doesn't sound like him. He'd never yell at _me_.”

Hitomi and Madoka made sympathetic sounds and agreed. Homura stared at her for a long moment, watching her chew. Sayaka took another bite and made a weird face at the girl's unblinking intensity.

“You may be surprised by what medical setbacks can do to a person's mental state,” Homura finally snapped sourly, her voice stilted and face pulled into a bitter half-frown. Sayaka flinched, but the magical girl continued, “It is like winning a prize and having it taken away. As though the universe has played a cruel trick. Don't visit him unless you are mentally prepared to see him furious and in despair. Prepared for him to lash out at you simply because you are a convenient target-- and to not allow yourself to be wounded by his words. It would do neither of you any good. Once he says something hurtful because he is in pain, he cannot take it back and you cannot unhear it. It will constantly be in the background of your friendship. That is the foolish risk you would take by visiting him when he is in this mood. Wait for him to get a hold of himself or you will regret it.” Disgust crossed her face-- and something like disbelief?-- before she looked away, broke her chopsticks perfectly, and ate as primly as Hitomi always did.

Sayaka exchanged uneasy glances with the other girls as they all chewed. The diatribe had been extremely rude, but something about the transfer student's bristling body language was enough to give all of them pause. It felt like the atmosphere had gotten heavier. Sayaka was glad to have her mouth full of food to keep an automatic comeback from slipping past her lips. A sassy _“What would_ you _know?”_ would probably not be helpful.

Besides, Stranger Danger kinda had a lot on her mind. Grumpiness would be understandable-- maybe even expected. And she... yeah, she had a really good point. Sayaka wished _she_ could slow down and be as insightful as the magical girl. _Homura might be the most mature person my age that I know_ , she thought.

“You're right, Homura,” Sayaka said frankly after a long pause. It seemed to startle the other girl. Whether it was because she wasn't arguing or had used her actual name for once, Sayaka couldn't say. “I... hadn't thought about it that way. I'll just send him a text or something. Say I'm sorry to hear about whatever and to call me if he wants me. Thanks.”

Homura opened her mouth to speak, paused, then warily said, “You are... welcome?”

The look on her face was just _too funny_. Sayaka laughed brightly, mood lightening. “Really! You might've saved me from making a total _dummy_ of myself with him!”

Solemnity returning, Homura stared for a moment then quietly said, “I am glad you can see it that way.”

“Well, you _were_ pretty harsh, young lady,” Sayaka babbled happily. She wagged a chastising finger, enjoying the sudden uncomfortable sideways glance it triggered. Thinking of the magical girl's no-nonsense warnings about other things, she winked and added, “But that's just how you get sometimes when you worry about people, isn't it?”

Madoka and Hitomi cooed as Homura huffed and refused to look at any of them, cheeks pink.

Sayaka's pleased smirk lingered through the rest of the lunch period.

§ x § x §

Late that night, Homura transformed in her house, froze time, and set out for the hospital with Yoruichi in her arms. She navigated the silent halls to Kyōsuke Kamijō's room with ease and stood at the foot of his bed, frowning down at him. His injured arm was in a bulky splint and there were dried tear tracks on his sleeping face.

“Idiot,” she finally snapped.

“Now, now,” Yoruichi chided. “I told you last time that what you did wasn't particularly thorough and probably wouldn't last a long time. And you have no idea if he actually did overwork it to ruin your work.”

Homura scowled. After a moment of silence, she stubbornly repeated, “Idiot.”

Yoruichi sighed, then shimmied up from Homura's arms to her shoulders. “Grab his chart. Let's look at it before we do anything. And get out Kisuke's diagram.” After ten suspended minutes of reading, Yoruichi said, “I think we should stick with the gradual plan. See the path Kisuke highlighted in green?”

“Yes. The median nerve.”

“Did he teach you how to find its major connectors with Mr. Monk?”

Homura slowly turned her head to look at the cat, disturbed. “You... know about the dummy?”

“Of course.”

“You didn't warn me.”

“Of course not. That wouldn't be any fun. So did he?”

“Yes.” Homura pointed to a half dozen points on Kamijō's arm. “Roughly here, though it takes time to pin each down for certain. He said every body has variations and to consider that Kamijō might have more connections than average if he usually has such fine dexterity.”

“Good.” Yoruichi settled more comfortably on Homura's shoulders. “Start at the wrist and work up to the shoulder. Finding each will be the hardest part. Use only a bit of carefully-controlled reiatsu at each point. Encouraging the median to repair itself will help with fine motor control and sensation in some of the fingers. He has other, more complex issues, but this will be a gentle start to help the stuff down the line where the median branches. Nothing deep or thorough yet, but enough for him to notice a difference. We'll reinforce it sometime next week.”

Homura took a deep breath and concentrated.

§ x § x §

After what felt like hours of trial and error seeking tiny needles in a hayloft and threading them with spidersilk, Homura returned to her home, allowed time to resume, and staggered to her bed. She flopped on it and lay breathing deeply for a few minutes as Yoruichi fussed around her.

“Get out one of your Grief Seeds and use it before you pass out,” Yoruichi said firmly.

Homura blinked the blurriness from her eyes, then wearily reached into her shield. She rolled on her side and tapped the Grief Seed against her Soul Gem, which was dirtier than she ever felt comfortable leaving it. The amethyst's impurities used up the entire Grief Seed in one hit. Homura shoved the Grief Seed back in her shield, released her transformation, and sighed.

“You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard,” Yoruichi chided.

“Need him... don't tempt Sayaka,” Homura slurred, eyes already closed. “Harder... than I thought.”

“It will get easier with practice,” Yoruichi said quietly. “You're still very lossy on transfer and working at a disadvantage by simultaneously maintaining the time stop so long. If you use manufactured weaponry all the time, it makes sense you run into endurance problems when multitasking your magic. We'll have to get closer to the hospital first next time. Minimize wasted travel time while you build endurance and finesse.”

“Rather not've the Incubator see... me near there,” muttered Homura. “Don' want it... pokin' 'round why... I go there.”

The cat sighed. “We'll talk about it more when you've recovered.”

Homura was snoring lightly before Yoruichi finished the sentence.

§ x § x §

By the time Homura woke up, it was nearly lunch time. Thoroughly disgusted with herself despite Yoruichi's insistence that it was a common reaction, Homura decided to forgo showing up to school late and spent the afternoon obsessively studying the charts and reading material Kisuke had given her at his healing lesson. Yoruichi gave up trying to talk to her and spent her time lazing in the sunshine filtering in the window. Both were startled when the doorbell rang, but they recognized the reiatsu on the other side. Homura rose and opened the door for Madoka and Sayaka. Both looked concerned.

“Yes?” Homura prompted when they just stood and stared.

“We-- we were so worried!” Madoka fretted.

“Did something happen?” Sayaka asked.

“Are you hurt?!”

Homura blinked at them owlishly as Yoruichi wove between her ankles to greet the girls with ankle-rubs. “Ah. I had a... very long night. I slept until lunch and decided to stay home.”

Both friends sighed deeply. Sayaka scowled and put her hands on her hips. “Why didn't you text us or something?”

The thought had never occurred to her. She tilted her head curiously. “Why should I?”

Sayaka huffed and jabbed a finger into Homura's cheek repeatedly. “We're your friends! Get it through your head that we give a damn about you and would like to know you're not lying in a ditch somewhere!”

Homura made no move to stop the poking, just staring at Sayaka with a baffled look on her face. Sayaka apparently decided to keep poking until she reacted, her face set in a stubborn pout. Typical of Sayaka, really, but Homura couldn't remember being on the receiving end before. She usually did stuff like this to Madoka. Sometimes Kyōko.

“If I promise to notify you next time, will you stop that?” Homura finally asked grumpily.

“Y-e-e-e-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s,” Sayaka drawled, poking Homura again but wiggling her finger in a circle on the cheek, pulling one side of Homura's frown into a smile. Madoka giggled at the motion as she bent and picked up Yoruichi.

“Fine,” Homura huffed as she brushed Sayaka's hand away. “Would you like to come in?”

Homura escorted them to the living room and gestured at the table. “Please have a seat while I get some snacks.”

“Ah! We brought your classwork!” Madoka said.

Homura vaguely gestured over her shoulder. “Just put it on my desk, thank you.”

When she returned with a tray of tea and Yuzu's endless cookies, Madoka was seated and Sayaka was standing by the desk with school papers, frowning at the diagrams Homura had been studying. The ones about the human hand. Mentally, Homura did a full-body cringe. Sloppy. Sloppy. Sloppy. Maybe she still needed more sleep.

“What's this?” Sayaka asked.

“A project,” Homura said curtly as she set the tea tray on the table.

“For what?”

“None of your business.”

Sayaka's face transitioned into contrary mode. “Why not?”

“It is personal,” Homura snapped. “You should not go looking through other people's papers.”

“They're just laying here in the open,” Sayaka argued with a pout.

“Sayaka, stop it,” Madoka scolded. “We're guests.”

“But it looks so interesting!”

“Homura will tell us about it only if she wants to,” Madoka argued. “I told you not to look and you did anyway. Don't be even more rude.”

Sayaka sulkily dropped the school papers and moved to the table to sit. Madoka elbowed her and made an expectant face. Sayaka looked down at the table and mumbled, “Sorry, Stranger Danger.”

Homura sighed and tamped down her anger-- which was honestly mostly at herself. “Do _not_ do it again.”

“I won't.”

After a long, awkward silence while the girls poured tea and munched cookies, Sayaka asked, “So, was your late night... magical girl business?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Sayaka fiddled with the handle of her teacup and looked up through her bangs. “Do you need help with a cover story or something?”

Homura sighed. “Not particularly. I have notes in my school file about a medical condition that makes my absences less likely to raise eyebrows.”

“Medical condition?” Madoka asked worriedly.

“I used to have a heart condition,” Homura carefully explained after a pause. “I spent much of my childhood in and out of hospitals. Between an experimental surgery and my healing abilities as a magical girl, it is not a problem anymore. The adults just do not know that.”

Sayaka perked up as though she had a realization, but clamped her mouth shut and kept it to herself. Odd.

“Should we tell people you had heart trouble, then?” Madoka asked.

“No. That would make my gym participation suspicious,” Homura replied. She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Say... that I pulled something near my surgical scar while... hmmm.”

“Moving heavy furniture to get something your cat dropped behind it?” Sayaka suggested after they all thought.

“That works,” Homura agreed. “Let's say this something was a piece of fish I did not want to rot. I pulled my muscle and scar here--” Homura slid a finger along her rib cage beneath her left armpit-- and I chose to rest it for a day.”

“Works for me!” Sayaka cheered.

“Got it,” Madoka agreed with a wan smile.

Sayaka pressed her hands to her cheeks and stared into the distance excitedly. “We get to help with cover stories! Guarding magical girl secrets! Cool!”

Homura didn't have the energy to discourage Sayaka's fantasies verbally so she just frowned her disapproval. Sayaka didn't notice but Madoka did. The pink-haired girl smiled ruefully and shrugged in Sayaka's general direction. _Sayaka's being Sayaka. You get used to it_.

Actually, she did have the energy. “You are incorrigible,” Homura sighed.

“What's that?” Sayaka chirped, snapping out of her fantasy.

“Nothing,” Homura and Madoka said at the same time. They met each other's eyes. Madoka giggled and Homura reluctantly smiled.

“What? What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Madoka repeated innocently.

“What's incorrigg-- corragg-- corrugatedible?”

Homura snorted into her tea while Madoka laughed joyfully.

§ x § x §

Homura allowed herself to be dragged to Madoka's house for dinner. Yoruichi played with Tatsuya while Madoka cemented Homura's cover story by expressing concern while Homura tried to limit her left arm's movement as though it was tender. Tomohisa and Junko Kaname fussed over her even more than Isshin Kurosaki had. After dinner, Tomohisa went back into the kitchen and cooked up a storm in a way that strongly reminded Homura of Yuzu, packing two days' worth of meals for her to take home so she could rest her “pulled muscle.” He announced that Madoka would bring an extra bento to school for her for a few days so she didn't have to prepare or carry her own. Madoka was sent home with her to carry everything for her and both adults offered to help her with anything heavy in the future. It was touching and made her feel guilty that it was all based on a lie.

After Madoka left, Homura sighed and rolled her shoulders. She looked at Yoruichi and grudgingly said, “I need to restock tonight. I used up a lot of shotguns on Wednesday.”

Yoruichi hopped up from chair to desk to the book shelf Homura had eventually just cleared for her dedicated use and watched Homura grabbing casual clothes from drawers. “Do you actually keep track of inventory or do you just throw stuff in there just in case?”

“I know exactly how much of what is in my shield,” Homura replied distractedly.

“Oh? You take notes?”

“No.”

“You just know?”

“Yes.” Homura went into the bathroom to change. She didn't particularly like dressing in front of the cat-woman.

“That's interesting,” Yoruichi called.

“I suppose.”

Clothes changed into uninteresting neutral tones and carrying a small purse, Homura murmured a goodbye and stepped out into the night. She casually made her way to the mall, bought a large boba tea to drink while wandering around, browsed at a book store, bought a book, and headed to the restroom. Once in a stall, she hung her belongings on the peg, transformed, and stopped time. She walked through the mall briskly and took to the rooftops once outside, heading directly to her nearby target.

The Yakuza locker room was full of men smoking cigarettes, as usual. She pilfered each locker, storing any weapon she found into her shield and carefully replacing the doors to whatever position they had started at. The storeroom was dim, but she knew it by heart now-- robbing the Yakuza blind was routine these days. Once done, she turned north and pilfered a JSDF base. Very routine.

Before long, she had retraced her steps to the mall bathroom. She released her transformation, waited a moment, flushed the toilet, and left. She was still a bit tired from the previous night and was just _done_ dealing with humanity for the day, so she detoured through alleys to avoid the press of bodies on public transit on a Friday night.

She hadn't gotten far when her instincts screamed in alarm and a girl dropped from the rooftops half a block in front of her. The stranger wore a loose sweater over short-shorts and her long brown hair trailed behind her in a sleek ponytail. The girl smiled and clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward playfully. Homura could sense that she was definitely a magical girl. A strong one she had never seen before. This was probably bad.

“Hi! I'm Ayase Sōju!” the girl called loudly. “I heard your name is Homura Akemi. Is that true?” she asked with a wink.

Homura frowned. That was ominous.

“Ooh, the stoic type? Nice.” Ayase kicked a foot back and forth in another playful gesture. “I need you to answer so I can label you correctly, though.”

Homura scowled. “I am not in the mood to play games. Leave.”

“But playing games is so fun!” Ayase cheered, throwing her hands wide with a grin. Her Soul Gem sparked red on her left hand. “I'll show you a good time! I have a _lot_ to show you!”

Irritated and wanting to avoid a fight until she knew more, Homura triggered her transformation. She froze time just as a frilly white dress coalesced around the other girl, shoved her book and purse into her shield, then walked up to Ayase and scrutinized her face. After some thought, she pulled her spare phone out of her shield and snapped some pictures. Not wanting to kill the girl until she knew what her motives were but too grumpy to deal with it that night, Homura sniffed disdainfully and took to the rooftops. Instead of going home, she veered hard south toward Shinchi to see if the girl would follow her, staying just within sensory range for someone of that girl's strength.

Time resumed. Homura waited for an hour, but the magical girl didn't follow. The distant magic churned in frustration for a bit, then retreated west. However, she soon felt that marching band magical girl homing in on her position, so she froze time again and went home.

Yoruichi startled when time resumed and Homura seemed to pop into existence from nowhere.

“Well, you look pissed,” she said drily. “I felt you transform a second time. What happened?”

“A complication.” Homura yanked her purse and book out of her shield and sourly threw them on the floor. “A new magical girl I have never seen before confronted me and seemed to want to fight me.”

Yoruichi's ears perked back up and she bristled. “Not in all your timelines?”

“Never.” Homura released her transformation, kicked her shoes off, and stalked toward her bedroom. “I am in _no_ mood. I left and she went west. She will have to wait.”

She went to bed but was too angry to sleep at first. Even though she had been trying to accomplish change for ages, she _hated_ when change popped up in the form of complete unknowns.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

WITCH DATA

PATRICIA

The Class Representative Witch. Her nature is to remain an onlooker. Using the spiderlike threads which she vomits forth, she created a school for herself alone within the sky of her barrier and endlessly acts out an ordinary daily student life there. If you ring the going-home bell, this witch will likely return to her house somewhere.

Minion: Mathieu, whose role is to be her classmates. Although the skates on their feet allow them to glide gracefully along the threads, all of them are actually controlled by the witch using her threads, and they have no will of their own.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A new challenger appears!  
> If you've read Kazumi Magica, you probably have an idea where this is going.  
> If you haven't read Kazumi Magica, it just means you won't be spoiled for a twist.


	52. EINUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: boop  
> I love your reviews, analyses, and guesses. (*_*)

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**EINUNDF ÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Homura felt better when she woke in the morning. Though she was awake in time to go to school, she decided to stay home and work on her arsenal. The presence of the new magical girl who seemed to want to fight her made it imperative that she be prepared for anything. Besides, it was just a half-day and she could do the classwork in her sleep at this point. Remembering the previous day's conversation, she texted Madoka and Sayaka to say she was going to give her “injury” an extra day to heal and called the school to report her absence and repeat the cover story. Sayaka replied with an emoji-ridden expression of concern and encouragement. Madoka replied that she would bring her lunch when the half day was over so they could all eat together. Homura paused thoughtfully, then accepted.

Yoruichi was lazily reading her phone over her shoulder as Homura ate breakfast. “When are you leaving for Karakura?”

“I am not going to Karakura,” Homura said distractedly.

The cat straightened into alertness. “You're supposed to do another briefing and get instruction.”

“I have a phone.”

The cat's tail lashed irritably. “It's not the same and you know it.”

Homura looked at her darkly. “I am not leaving Madoka and Sayaka alone to be preyed upon by the Incubator like last weekend and I do not know the new magical girl's intentions. I am staying here.”

After a minute of consideration, Yoruichi conceded the point with an inclination of her chin. “Call Kisuke to tell him.”

“Fine,” Homura sighed.

Kisuke Urahara skilfully attempted to wheedle her into doing the trip anyway, which Homura had expected. She stonewalled him sullenly.

“I asked you before and I'll ask you again: How do you expect me to be able to help you if you distance yourself from my base of operations?”

“As I said before and will say again, you are an intelligent man,” Homura replied. “I presume you are capable of finding a solution.”

In the pause that ensued, Homura could practically _feel_ that he was pursing his lips in consternation. Yoruichi chuckled lowly.

Kisuke tersely said, “I've been working on an idea, but it will still take some time.”

“That is not my problem,” Homura said.

“It kinda _is_ ,” Yoruichi drawled. “You have a limited window in which to sort all of this out before you you could be forced to turn back and teach us everything all over again. Four weeks left, now. Tick-tock.”

Homura pursed her own lips in consternation. Point taken.

“I admit your concerns _are_ legitimate,” Kisuke sighed. “I'll rearrange some of the lessons into reading material with prompts for Yoruichi to verbally explain certain points in more detail. And send me the pictures you took of the new girl. I'll see if I can find anything about her. Ah, speaking of research! I traced Noriko Chiasa's progress from her school, into a section of old buildings around a park with no cameras, picked her up getting chased by Yoruichi, into the alley, and then nothing. There was a security camera on the one loading dock but it shorted out as Chiasa turned the corner.”

“That's another convenient coincidence that seems to keep popping up,” Yoruichi said lowly. “Reiatsu feedback powerful enough to mess with human electronics?”

“That would be my guess,” Kisuke agreed. “Like a spiritual EMP. I don't think you care about the science behind that, do you?”

“Nope,” Yoruichi answered as Homura shrugged.

“I poked around the businesses and found a couple work orders for faulty lighting at the ice rink and completely dead everything at the dry cleaners. By the blueprints in the city's files and Yoruichi's description, Chiasa was pretty close to their breaker box. So....”

“That is good to know,” Homura murmured.

“ _Oho_ , you sound like you have an _idea_ ,” Kisuke crooned.

“Perhaps,” Homura said blandly.

After tidying up, Homura manifested her shield and pulled out her haul from the previous night. She sorted the items methodically, lining them up in neat rows on the floor as she paired weapons with related ammunition. Once it was all set out, Homura sat on the floor and worked her way down each line, loading and readying each weapon and storing them in her shield for quick access in battle without the bother of loading on the fly. Homura was pleased that Yoruichi knew to keep her mouth shut and stay out of the way when she was handling weapons. In some early timelines when she had done this in front of Sayaka or Kyōko, they would babble or distract her by moving around or poking things.

Well, Kyōko did most of the poking. Once Sayaka contracted, she learned to be wary of munitions because her largely mêlée style got her up close and personal with them in battle. Kyōko was more reckless in that respect.

When Homura stored the last set of weaponry, Yoruichi asked, “Were you low on the grenades and RPGs too, or...?”

“No. But if they are there, I may as well take them,” Homura answered.

“I'm getting the impression that you could supply an army,” Yoruichi said drily.

“Fighting Walpurgisnacht requires an army's worth of weaponry,” Homura said with a shrug.

“...Right.”

Yoruichi was silent for a few minutes as Homura bustled around preparing a tray of tea and cookies for her friends, who should arrive within the hour. Homura was mildly frustrated-- she did _not_ have Mami's flair for artful food arrangement. And she swore she could feel the cat watching her struggle. Would having a normal cat be the same way?

“Hey, Akemi,” Yoruichi said. “There's supposed to be another disappearance today, right?”

“Ah.” Homura manifested her shield and retrieved the calendar of disappearances and strange incidents Kisuke had put together for her based on the infodump from his alter in the previous timeline. “Yes. Saki Yamaha. Kazamino. Her body should be found in an amusement park tomorrow.” She looked at the cat with narrowed eyes. “I think it would be suspicious for you to be present at another potential turning.”

Yoruichi purred. “I was going to say the same thing.” She sounded quite pleased. Practically smug. Homura raised an eyebrow, but the cat ignored the implied question. “Not sure if you going could also be suspicious. If Mami Tomoe was on your side, it would be less suspicious for _her_ to venture into Kazamino. And less dangerous, maybe-- you said she had a preexisting friendship with Kyōko Sakura, right?”

Homura hummed doubtfully. “There is a rift between them at this point, so I do not know.”

“Ah, well,” Yoruichi sighed. “I guess just go hunting tomorrow and hope you run into the Witch. You can never have enough spare Grief Seeds.”

Looking at the calendar, Homura said, “I will search the area after the announcement of her body's discovery airs on the morning news. The Incubator probably knows I know the truth. If it confronts me, I can say I search whenever I hear about a girl dying mysteriously.”

“Works for me. Then the other girl-- Momoe? She's Monday by the hospital, right?”

“Yes.” Homura looked up and pursed her lips. “I may have to find a way to accompany Miki to the hospital as Madoka usually does. If I can get a Grief Seed and time it right, I may be able to keep Momoe from turning.”

“Mind the cameras,” Yoruichi drawled.

“We just spoke about that,” Homura said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Yoruichi cooed her gleeful understanding.

Any further conversation was interrupted by the doorbell. Madoka and Sayaka were cheerfully waiting on her doorstep.

“Look, Stranger Danger!” Sayaka crowed, brandishing a grocery bag. “ _I'm_ the one giving the candy this time!”

Madoka giggled and held up a bakery box. “I got us a little cake from the usual place.”

Homura sighed fondly and shook her head. “Come in.”

Lunch was pleasant. Homura was content to quietly let Sayaka and Madoka's bubbly chatter wash over her. Somehow, they both understood what she was doing. Not unusual for Madoka, but somewhat surprising for Sayaka. At least at this point in the timeline. Homura didn't miss the blue-haired girl's occasional serious glances her way, but chose not to acknowledge them. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what was rattling around in Sayaka's head today.

“So, are you staying here this weekend?” Sayaka finally prodded her when they broke out the cake.

“Yes.” Homura carefully set slices onto small plates, face serious as she concentrated. “I do not want to leave you two alone in Mitakihara. That is to say, I do not want to be far away should you find yourselves in trouble. Whether it is a labyrinth or the Incubator or-- ah.”

“What-ah?” Sayaka asked, leaning her chin on her hands and watching Homura's face.

Homura frowned and lay the knife down, then put the slices of cake in front of her friends. “Something disturbing happened last night. I want to warn you.”

Sayaka snapped upright again, ignoring the cake. “What?! Is that why you didn't come to school in the morning?”

“Yes.”

Madoka nibbled on the tines of her fork. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I was not injured, no.” Homura sighed, considered her words, and continued, “You recall that magical girls can challenge one another over territory or limited resources, yes? As I discussed with Mami Tomoe.”

“Yeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhhh,” Sayaka said suspiciously.

“I know the two most active magical girls in this area by reputation. One is Mami Tomoe. The other is... I have heard that her name is Kyōko. I saw her from a distance once. Dark red hair, dark red costume, almost always seen snacking on something or other-- from what I have heard. I have heard that she can be extremely aggressive, but... not necessarily terrible. From rumors, it depends on if you manage to offend her somehow. If you do, then she can be vicious.”

“Uh, what offends her?” Sayaka asked warily.

Homura pursed her lips. How much would it be safe to say? She hadn't really planned for the conversation to go this way-- she thought she'd mention Kyōko in passing and move on. Maybe she could do something to keep Sayaka from butting heads with Kyōko as badly as the girl often seemed to manage. Sayaka tended to blow up in rage first then accept Kyōko later after she got more information. Maybe if Homura got the blow-up portion done before the two even met...? Tricky.

“It is... hard to say, having never met her myself,” Homura answered slowly. Distantly, she didn't like that lying came so easily these days. “I have heard that she is very cynical about our... duties. That something terrible happened to her. That she fights off idealistic magical girls who are more concerned with fantasy than reality to teach them a lesson. That she sometimes allows Familiars to roam until they consume enough souls to spawn a new Witch, then defeats the Witch for its Grief Seed.”

Madoka gasped softly. Sayaka scowled and snarled, “Then she _is_ terrible!”

Homura frowned and tented her fingers together on the table. “It may not be as black and white as it appears at first glance, Miki.”

“You're defending her letting-- letting those things-- letting them _eat people?!_ That's pure evil! There's no excuse--!”

“Grow up,” Homura snapped before she could stop herself. Sayaka reared back as though slapped. Homura huffed and massaged her closed eyes. “Miki. You must remember how badly our situation can force a magical girl's hand. Whether or not a girl knows her Soul Gem will turn into a Grief Seed if it is not cleansed, we _all_ know that as it darkens, we struggle more. That its darkness is a deeply disturbing and dangerous thing. Our magic is more difficult to access. Battle requires more and more effort, which increases the amount of magic we need to accomplish the same things-- a death spiral. We take more damage and heal more slowly. In short, we know that our chances of dying in battle rise apace of the darkening of our Gems. Many girls just do not know that there is a worse state beyond death for us. It is like slowly starving.” She dipped her chin and looked up at Sayaka through her bangs. “It is one thing to talk of ideal standards for food when you are comfortable. When you are truly starving, it is madness to dismiss _any_ food out of hand. Ideal standards mean little when you are trying to avoid death and have no safe options. In such circumstances, you may come to be grateful for even molding trash, no matter how disgusting. You may become desperate enough to steal food. Desperate enough to fight or kill for food. No matter what ideals you had before you could no longer afford to maintain them. There have even historically been incidents in which desperate humans resorted to cannibalism to survive. Even in the more recent past.” And here she was using creepy moral relativist food metaphors like Kyōko. What had her life come to? She tilted her head and tried to be less cynical. Aim for sad? “Some people stick to principles even if it kills them. That can be noble. Many others compromise for the sake of staying alive. It is human nature. They may not even realize they are doing it. Have you never heard that one of the dangers of saving a drowning person is that they may drag you under them and drown you in their panicked effort to avoid death?”

And _now_ she was using a metaphor about drowning to explain something to a girl whose Witch form was a mermaid. Sometimes Homura felt like her life had become a cosmic joke.

Sayaka's face was cycling through emotions. Hither and thither with a center at appalled and confused. She sputtered but could not summon words. Anger appeared frequently, as did hurt and doubt. Hopefully, that was a sign of thought beyond knee-jerk reaction level. Hopefully, Homura hadn't just broken the strange tie that had developed between them in this timeline. She was finding herself actually enjoying that tie. Cautiously, even uncertainly, but it was... nice.

Homura sighed heavily. “I am not saying that such survival tactics are _admirable_. Nor moral, or even desirable. I wish to stress that they are potentially _understandable_. Yes, there are some magical girls who are rotten to the core. But figuring out which magical girls enjoy it and which have had their hands forced by the system is not necessarily simple. I only ask that you pay very close attention to magical girls and accept that they likely fall into a shade of gray on a black to white scale.”

“Even you?” Sayaka mumbled.

“ _Especially_ me,” Homura replied tiredly. She took a deep breath and decided to up the ante. “Who knows? Maybe this Kyōko just needs the right sort of... support. Rumor says she was once Tomoe's partner. Do you think Tomoe is the type to associate with someone with no redeeming qualities?”

“N-no...,” Sayaka said quietly.

Madoka gathered Yoruichi into her lap and solemnly said, “We'll have to keep an open mind. But be very careful.”

Sayaka poked her cake with her fork, face troubled. “Ye-yeah.”

“That is all I can ask of you,” Homura said with a nod. “This is all a tangent, though. I need to warn you about a different magical girl who has appeared in this territory. One I have never seen or heard of before.”

Madoka bit her lip. “Maybe Mami knows her?”

Tilting her head thoughtfully, Homura murmured, “Perhaps. I should approach Tomoe about this as a courtesy, anyway. This is technically her territory. She just does not particularly mind sharing if other girls are polite about it.”

“So what's the big deal with this other magical girl?” Sayaka asked.

“I do not know her motives, but I believe she is dangerous,” Homura answered.

“I thought we were supposed to keep an open mind,” Sayaka grumbled.

“This one ambushed me without provocation,” Homura said bluntly. She stared hard at Sayaka, hoping to get the seriousness across. “That is the most dangerous sort of magical girl. I was lucky that she is arrogant enough to grandstand before attacking. Had she wanted, she could have attacked me from above before I even knew I needed to defend myself. She had the high ground in a narrow space. I was distracted. I could be dead now.” Seeing Sayaka and Madoka both had gone pale, Homura settled back and carefully used her fork to slice a bite from her cake. She had made her point.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds... really bad,” Sayaka said shakily.

“What should we do?” Madoka asked.

“Be extremely cautious. I do not know why she approached me. I do not know if she will seek out potentials like you two or if she is just targeting those with existing contracts-- or even if she is specifically targeting me. The two clues I have are that she knows my name and that she wanted to verify it. She said she wanted to _label me correctly_.”

Face twisted in disgust, Sayaka said, “Wow, can she sound any _more_ like a serial killer?”

Homura's lips quirked in a brief, grim smile. “Anyway. She had very long brown hair in a ponytail. She introduced herself as Ayase Sōju. Her magical girl costume was a long, frilly white dress with purple ribbons.” She paused to chew her cake, running over potential problems in her head. _If one unknown magical girl could show up, what ruled out others?_ After a sip of tea, she continued, “Actually, be careful with _any_ girl with a silver ring on her hand. Like mine.” She held out her left hand, fingers splayed to show her Soul Gem ring. “If you go near Shinchi, there is a magical girl there who seems extremely defensive of her territory. I do not know much about her aside from that. I was too far away to make out her hair color, but her costume is a short frilly blue dress and a marching band hat. If she confronts you, apologize and say you are not contracted and do not intend to challenge her. I think she may accept that. When she showed herself to me when I trespassed by accident, I bowed my apologies and left. She did not chase me.”

“Well... that's good. I guess,” Sayaka said uncertainly.

Homura nodded. “There are also magical girls to the north in Asunaro, but I know very little about them.” She tapped her fingers on the table and slowly said, “Do not mention this to anyone, but there is some sort of spell over Asunaro. I am trying to figure out what it is.”

“A spell?” Madoka said in surprise.

“Yes. The one time I crossed the city limits, it took a moment to notice the spell. It made me forget the Incubator.” She forked another piece of cake and sourly said, “That is extremely dangerous for me. I will not go into Asunaro proper again until I figure out that spell.”

“Did the Incubator do it?” Sayaka asked, voice gradually rising. “Did it do that to keep you from telling other girls about it?!”

“I do not know,” Homura said quietly. “It does not fit with the pattern of behavior I have observed in it. It does not seem to particularly care if magical girls find out the truth, provided it happens after contracting. If a potential who is powerful enough finds out, it simply outright says to call on it if she thinks of a wish she would stake her soul on. If such a girl contracts, she is likely already in a distressed state. Distress and the truth often cause magical girls to decline faster, which works to its advantage.”

“Then why is it being so damn cagey about it with Tomoe?” asked Sayaka.

“All I can do is guess,” Homura said carefully. “The way it misled her about its injuries at Madoka's house... It may be trying to leverage Tomoe against me as a proxy. I would also not be surprised if it sees Tomoe as a useful recruitment tool to ensnare the two of you.” She eyed them speculatively. “You were quite impressed by her in combat, were you not?”

Madoka and Sayaka glanced at each other, then their respective laps, blushing guiltily.

Homura made herself smile wryly. It bordered on a grimace. “Do not be ashamed. I have heard she is legitimately impressive. She would have to be, to survive as long as she has. And I doubt she has any idea she is being used. Her concern for you in the labyrinth was most likely genuine.” After a long stretch of unhappily silent eating, Homura sighed. “I think we have spoken about enough serious business,” Homura said as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “How is that boy doing, Miki?”

Sayaka's face lit up. “Guess what?!”

§ x § x §

After a long brainstorming session, Homura ate one of the dinners Madoka's father had packed for her and set out for Mami's apartment. Yoruichi followed at her heels, an insurance policy to drive away the Incubator if it was present. Mami's face was stunned when she opened the door.

“Good evening.” Homura bowed slightly. “I apologize for bothering you. I need to pass a warning to you.”

“About what?” Mami asked slowly. She glanced down when Yoruichi darted forward and curled around her ankles, purring.

“Business.” Homura glanced down the hall and nodded to indicate Mami should look at the family several doors down. A harried mother was squabbling with her children. Potential witnesses to talk about magic. “May I come in?”

Mami frowned uncertainly, then nodded. “Of course.”

Homura slipped off her shoes as Mami closed the door behind her. “I apologize for my cat. She follows me everywhere sometimes. Would you like me to put her back out?”

“No, no, she's fine,” Mami said more warmly. Yoruichi purred more loudly and rubbed her face into Mami's leg. A smile ghosted across Homura's face at Mami's resulting giggle.

“I brought a gift,” Homura said, holding up a cloth-wrapped bundle tied together with one of her old purple hair ribbons. “Cookies.”

Mami smiled and accepted the package. “Thank you. Please, follow me.”

Homura sat at the usual table while Mami, ever the perfect hostess, bustled in the kitchen and brought out two artfully-plated slices of some kind of fancy cake. _I need to pay attention to how she does it sometime_ , Homura thought idly as she thanked the blonde. She deliberately took a bite as Yoruichi slunk under the table. The mutual acceptance of cookies and cake was akin to a truce ritual.

Mami watched her for a minute before setting fork to her own slice. “What kind of warning do you want to give me?” She was obviously weighing every aspect of Homura's appearance-- probably watching her body language for signs of attack or dishonesty.

“Perhaps I should start with a question,” Homura replied. “Do you know a magical girl who wears a frilly white dress with purple ribbons? She has long brown hair in a ponytail.”

Mami frowned. “I don't think so.”

“She said her name was Ayase Sōju.”

Tapping a finger on her chin in thought, Mami said, “I don't recall hearing that name, even in rumors. Why?”

Homura lay her fork on her plate and clasped her hands together on the table. “She tried to attack me last night.”

Mami's brows rose. “Go on.”

“I was in an alley. I was not transformed. She descended in front of me, also not transformed. She knew my name, but said she wanted me to verify it so she could _label me correctly_. She then transformed.”

Mami took a sip of tea, troubled. “Did you fight?”

“No, I escaped. I try to avoid unnecessary battles. I wanted more information on her motives and did not wish to draw attention from normal people,” Homura answered. “I was lucky that she was so arrogant as to reveal herself before attacking. I fled south and waited to see if she would follow. She did not. She moved west.” After a pause, she ventured, “I then encountered a magical girl in Shinchi. She made a display of challenge when I trespassed, but she did not chase me when I bowed at her and left.”

“That would be Nonon,” Mami murmured with a wave of her hand. “She's been a magical girl at least as long as I have. Probably longer. Her magical aspect is sound and music. She's highly experienced and viciously territorial but we worked out a border between our territories after several fights. She shouldn't follow you back here unless you provoke her.”

Homura had known Mami had worked out deals like that before she had contracted, but had never cared about the other parties involved.

Mami looked down with her brow knit in thought and drummed her fingers on the table. “There are a pair of sisters a bit west of here, but I haven't seen them for a few weeks and neither fits the description,” she murmured. “I know of other magical girls in the surrounding areas, but none of them match.” She looked up at Homura and frowned. “She knew your name?”

“Yes. That concerns me. I... try to avoid becoming well-known.”

“Could she have followed you from wherever you were before you came here?”

Homura couldn't come out and say that was impossible. “That would be extremely improbable. I went to great pains to obscure myself.”

“Even from Kyubey?” Mami said in the same pensive tone. Fishing for information by surprise. Smart.

“Even from Kyubey,” Homura agreed pleasantly. _Nice try._

“Hmmmmm.” Mami took another bite of cake and watched her guest carefully as she chewed. Homura patiently bore the scrutiny. “Why did you come to tell me about this, Miss Akemi?”

Homura mirrored her and resumed eating the cake. “I felt you needed to know about a potentially dangerous interloper of unknown origin.”

A wry smile curled Mami's lips. “You realize you're also a mysterious interloper, do you not?”

Acknowledging the dig with a snobby inclination of her chin, Homura replied, “Perhaps. But I have no intention of challenging you for this territory or fighting you in anything but self-defense. I cannot say the same for this new girl.”

Mami cocked her head curiously. “You sound... concerned?” She didn't quite succeed at concealing her hope.

“Yes. I do not want you to die,” Homura said bluntly, focusing on her cake instead of her hostess' face. She never liked to see Mami vulnerable. It always struck her as wrong even though she knew the perfect confidence and nobility the girl projected was largely a mask. But the first dozen or so timelines in which she had effectively been Mami's apprentice had solidified that mask as the ideal Mami in her mind. Whenever Mami's vulnerability slipped out, it reminded her that her past self _hadn't noticed anything amiss_ until the timeline in which Mami's mind had snapped.

She really wasn't a very good friend, was she?

“Why?”

Homura blinked out of her melancholy and looked up. “What?”

“Why?” Mami repeated, mystified. “Why do you care if I live or die?”

Homura stared at her in silence for several long minutes. She felt Yoruichi slink up into her lap but couldn't look away from Mami. Finally, she tiredly said, “I have seen too many magical girls die.”

Mami's face went similarly solemn, but her eyes looked like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

Finishing her cake, Homura lay down her fork and gathered Yoruichi into her arms. As she rose, she said, “Be alert. Please keep your Soul Gem clean and stay safe. There is a paper with my number in the package I gave you. Call me if you encounter Sōju or hear more about her.” She walked to the door and slipped her feet into her shoes, then looked back. Mami had half-risen from the table and looked confused. Homura bowed. “Thank you for your hospitality. I look forward to speaking to you about other matters soon.”

Mami stammered a reply, but Homura let herself out before she could be drawn back into conversation.

§ x § x §

Shortly after she returned to her house, Homura's phone started chiming with a flurry of incoming text messages-- the group of everyone in the know had been told she wouldn't be visiting Karakura at their Saturday evening meeting. Homura wondered how Urahara had told them because not one of them challenged her decision. Orihime's messages were warmly encouraging and included an offer to come up and purify her Gem if need be. Isshin's messages read like a helicopter parent checking on their child at summer camp, starting serious and gradually slipping into silliness. Ichigo's were supportive with that same awkward offer to talk if she ever needed to, later followed by an offer to smash Isshin's phone. Karin and Yuzu peppered her with questions and chatter that became difficult to follow. When Karin finally asked if they could just call, Homura stared doubtfully from the phone to her windows. She could angle the screen away from view so the Incubator couldn't see who she was talking to if it was spying and had a way to see past the curtains, but if it was hanging around outside and she had the phone on, it might recognize their voices. She wasn't sure how good its hearing was.

“No worries,” Yoruichi said lowly. Homura looked up to the shelf from which the cat had been reading over her shoulder. After stretching, the cat dropped from the shelf and said, “I'll go out and guard the house. Gimme a pillow to claw up so we can get covered in fluff and you can toss me out like you're angry. Just ignore all the pathetic meowing and scratching I do after.”

“Why?”

Yoruichi hummed pleasantly. “You've earned a bit of downtime with the girls, even if it's remote.” She winked and added, “Besides, clawing the little monster to shreds is fun. Let it come. Give me a great excuse to go at it. See if I can get both eyes this time.”

After setting up the incident and some surprise clawing of her arms to make her genuinely angry when she tossed the black cat out the door by the scruff, Homura allowed the Kurosaki sisters to call her.

“Oh, wow, you totally sound like you need to bitch about something,” Karin said gleefully. “Tell us, tell us!”

“Tell us, tell us!” Yuzu's voice echoed.

“Is it the violin twit?” Karin urged, voice thick with the craving for juicy gossip. “Or the Incubastard?”

A surprised, ugly laugh burst from Homura's mouth before she could quash it.

“Aw, yeah! I win! Told you I could make her laugh by calling it names! Right out the gate, too! Pay up, Yuz!”

Yuzu's voice carried a pout. “Aww, I thought it would have to be a happier topic.”

“Never underestimate the uplifting power of pettiness, Yuzu!” Karin gloated. “Now, Homura! Let's get down to bitching about life!”

“Language, Karin!” Yuzu chided.

“Pfffffftttttt.”

They spoke about all manner of things from serious magical girl business to mundane gossip into the wee hours of the morning. It was surprisingly easy to talk to them. Yuzu's cheer and Karin's sass made for a disarming back-and-forth balance. Plus she didn't have to pretend with them. She could compare _this_ Sayaka to _other_ Sayakas outside her own mind, express her frustration with changes she tried to make going oddly, and really just speak about time travel in general. It was a relief. Even talking to them by phone felt like they were right there with her instead of hours away. Was this what it was like to have a confidant? It had been so long since she felt like this with a Madoka who knew everything that she wasn't sure. Whether or not that was it, it was soothing to vent and be vented at.

Homura's sleep was actually deep and restful that night.

§ x § x §

Sayaka chewed on her pencil as she struggled with her English translation assignment. She was laying on her bed belly-down, head propped up on one hand as she shifted her scowl back and forth between the laptop with its translation prompts and her admittedly poor notes from class. _Homura makes it look so easy when she helps me_ , she thought.

_May I come in?_

Sayaka stilled and slowly looked up and around her room at the “sound” of the androgynous voice of the Incubator in her head. Nothing. “Where are you?” she asked suspiciously.

 _Outside your window_ , the voice replied.

“Like _that's_ not creepy,” Sayaka muttered. Eyes narrowed, she stood and stalked to the nearest floor-to-ceiling window to tug aside the drapes. Nothing on the sill. She found it when she looked out the nearest window on the adjacent wall and pushed the drapes and curtains all the way open. The creature was perched in the very center of the sill as though it was perfectly normal for a catlike being to have reached an apartment building's fourth floor ledge with nothing to climb.

_Good evening, Sayaka Miki! May I come in?_

“No. Buzz off,” she snapped.

_I would like to speak with you without the interference of others._

Sayaka crossed her arms and glared at it. “So, what, it's my turn to get perved on? Not interested.”

The creature approximated a frown. _As I explained previously, I am incapable of--_

“Whatever. Homura's right. You're totally a stalker.”

 _That is precisely why I wish to speak with you alone, outside her influence_ , the Incubator said. _Homura Akemi is affecting your perception of me. Her presence has not allowed you to form your own opinion of me._

“I dunno, man. You sure _act_ like a stalker,” she droned, unimpressed.

It blinked its beady red eyes up at her. Choosing to change the topic altogether, the Incubator said, _I am curious what Homura Akemi told you about Soul Gems and Witches. You asked some interesting questions of Mami Tomoe when you visited her._

Sayaka shifted her stance, fists on her hips, and retorted, “What's it to you?”

 _I do not understand your question_ , it said in a way that reminded her of emotionless robots on television.

Rolling her eyes, she asked, “Why do you care?”

_Her narrative may be inaccurate and dissuade you from considering a contract which could benefit you greatly._

“And _you_ , too, right?” she parried. “I heard what Madoka said about contracts. _You_ get something out of this whole thing and you aren't saying what it is.”

It stared at her for a long minute, tail undulating behind it, then its body shifted to a different position to mirror an adjustment in the angle of its argument. _Considering how pointed the questions were, I infer that you are aware of the tie between magical girls and Witches._

“Good for you, smartypants,” Sayaka sneered. “Yeah, Soul Gems turn into Grief Seeds and magical girls turn into Witches. Why would I ever want to sign up for something like that?”

It didn't deny her statement and ignored her question. _Obviously, you knew the answer to the questions when you asked them of Mami Tomoe._

“ _Obviously_ ,” Sayaka said with a more sarcastic roll of her eyes.

_Then obviously you know that she is not aware of the truth. This truth upsets_ you _. Do you think it would upset Mami Tomoe?_

“Duh.”

_Well, then. I must thank you for urging her down the path to despair._

Sayaka blinked in surprise and knit her brow. “What do you mean?”

 _Mami Tomoe was blissfully ignorant. You have introduced her to doubt. She is not unintelligent. It is only a matter of time before she comes to the correct conclusion. As with many magical girls, the truth will accelerate her descent into despair._ The Incubator tilted its head and crinkled its eyes in a mockery of a smile as dread rose in Sayaka's heart. _I have been observing her for two years now. She has been so adept that I became convinced that she would be one of the rare girls to endure to adulthood. I believe you have successfully sabotaged that possibility. She will become a Witch much sooner than I had anticipated. It is much more efficient. Thank you!_

She was going to be sick.

“Get out,” Sayaka rasped.

 _I am already outside_ , the Incubator said quizzically.

“Go away!” Sayaka yelled.

 _My, my. You humans have the strangest reactions to efficiency._ It stood and lazily stepped to the edge of the window sill, past the reach of the window's dim light. When it glanced back over its shoulder from the shadows, its red eyes glowed. _If you ever change your mind about the contract, call me and I will help._

“Help?! That's not help! Why would I ever want your _help_ when I know what you would do to my soul?!” Sayaka raged as tears blurred her vision.

 _Many humans eventually find a wish they want so desperately that any price is acceptable_ , the Incubator replied casually.

“Not me! Never!” she snarled. Sayaka slammed her fists on the window. “Leave! _Now!_ ”

 _As you wish_ , the Incubator sighed. _If you ever find something you want so badly you would sacrifice your soul to obtain it, I will be waiting. And I am sure Mami Tomoe would welcome a partner. A burden shared is a burden lightened, after all. Perhaps you could delay her fall._

The white figure disappeared into the night with a graceful leap.

Sayaka roughly drew the drapes closed. She left her hands fisted in the cloth and slid to the floor, grimacing as she let loose an angry sob.

It had done exactly what Homura said it might. Homura knew _so much!_ She had to get Homura to help Mami. Had to. She had to do _something_. Mami was too nice, too heroic to be rewarded with a transformation into a Witch. Or with insanity, as Homura had said was possible. There _had_ to be a way to help her. Sayaka was sure of it. She just had to find it.

For the first time in her life, Sayaka understood what it was like to loathe something with her entire being. It was like being consumed in a tempest at sea, her rage at the storm bearing her up to defy the sky from among the waves.

The Incubator would pay for what it had done. Somehow.

§ x § x §

Homura drowsily let Yoruichi in on Sunday morning, yawning as she threw the curtains wide and turned on her rarely used television to blare the news on her way to the kitchen to reheat one of the breakfasts Madoka's father had packed her. Discussion about the mysterious theft of JSDF weaponry that had leaked to the public became background noise. She let her mind drift as she kept half an ear open for mention of Saki Yamaha's corpse. When the discovery of the body was finally relayed by the disturbed news anchor, Homura turned the TV off and washed the dishes before heading out.

After taking a bus to the northeastern border of Mitakihara and Kazamino, Homura set up a search pattern like she had used for the Pumpkin Witch by the Karakura train corridor. Up one street, down the next, Soul Gem held low to disguise her holding something invisible. She crossed into Kazamino and worked her way toward the amusement park from the news. About half a kilometer away from it, she detected a labyrinth behind an electronics store. Brandishing her Soul Gem revealed a squarish sigil with thick margins and the outlines of two angels holding hands in the center.

The Box Witch. Great. She _hated_ that thing. It was a weak combatant, but its mind games put her on edge. Homura tried to avoid entering that labyrinth when she could-- especially with other magical girls. The television screens that displayed memories were loathsome. She preferred to throw Sayaka at this Witch. It was one enemy for which the swordswoman's tendency to charge against something without much forethought was an asset.

With a deep sigh, Homura transformed, set her practice barrier on her Soul Gem, and entered the labyrinth. She could immediately feel that it was a Familiar's labyrinth-- no Witch present. Less annoying, but it meant the Witch was still out there and she might be the one to face the same hated labyrinth twice. Bothersome.

Hair drifting in the snow globe's sparkling pseudo-water as she tried to ignore the images of her worst memories on the television screens embedded in spinning carousel horses, Homura pulled a machine gun out of her shield and methodically destroyed each art mannequin Familiar in a hail of bullets.

§ x § x §

Ayase licked her lips and intently watched the labyrinth's door flickering as her prey fought within. Already transformed and holding her sword, she shifted with tension like a cat with muscles coiled to pounce. As soon as the sigil collapsed and the purple magical girl reappeared, she launched herself down from the girl's left. The stoic magical girl sensed her and instantly moved to shield with her buckler. Ayase's grin sharpened-- the Soul Gem was exposed on her hand. She could disable her opponent before she could even retaliate!

Then Ayase crashed into the ground where the girl had been. Ayase whipped around, wild-eyed.

Gone.

“Whatever your motives are, this is your last chance,” a cold voice echoed in the alley. Ayase looked upward and found the girl perched on the edge of a building. Her face was set in grim disapproval. “Whatever grievance you may have with me, have the decency to talk to me first.” She narrowed violet eyes. “Did Kyubey send you?”

“So what if he did?” Ayase said tartly.

“It hates me and has misconstrued events to at least one other magical girl in an attempt to make her hate me,” Akemi said, glare intense. “It may be manipulating you.” She lifted her chin and looked at her askance. “Either to eliminate me... or to draw me into killing you. I would guess it considers you expendable.”

Ayase paused. Kyubey did have reason to want her dead. No matter, though; she'd just have to be on her A-game.

Akemi must have noticed the tic in her face. She sighed harshly, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and brusquely said, “Really, _all_ magical girls are expendable to it. Think about it. Should you decide to oppose Kyubey, approach me when not transformed and I will speak with you. If you attack me again, I will kill you.”

Ayase opened her mouth to retort but the girl was gone. No movement. Just gone. She looked at the rooftops with bafflement, then hopped up to the roof and looked around, primed for attack. Nothing. She twitched as she felt Akemi's power flare brightly on the far side of Mitakihara. Probably by the western city limits. Perhaps three seconds had passed and her target was already kilometers away. It was a taunt. _Come get me. I dare you to try._

Ayase was confident in her abilities but not stupid enough to go after an alert, powerful opponent on a battleground of that opponent's choosing.

She released her transformation and viciously kicked a loose roof tile, sending it skittering off the edge to crash in the street. “How does she _do_ that?!”

Three seconds to cross the city. If her prey was that fast, Ayase needed to trap her in a closed environment so she couldn't get away if she had any chance of getting one over on her. Looked like it was time to find a labyrinth to camp in.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Somehow, writing this story makes me hate Incucthulhu even more than I did when I started.
> 
> Mentally picturing Homura glowing purple and looking fierce with a caption of COME AT ME, BRO  
> Kinda like Inucurry's drawing of Rebellion!Sayaka captioned I HAVE THE HIGH GROUND


	53. ZWEIUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You don't know how happy I am to be writing more frequently again. And to be hearing from you all more often. Despite how long it took me to carefully line up plot dominoes and the difficulties of my real life, you've been cheering me on patiently for a long time. Thank you.
> 
> FF.n ANON REVIEWERS: omg login. There are a lot of times when I'd love to chatter with you about some plot thing you poke at but I don't have anywhere to do it. At least on AO3, anon comments can be replied to for public viewing. [But they have no PM system I'm aware of. I need a lovechild of FF.n and AO3 that has both.]

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ZWEIUNDF ÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Homura planted herself on a high girder in a construction site, arms crossed, scowling eastward, and flared her magic. The strange magical girl had fled west last time; perhaps she would come this way again. But Homura sensed Sōju drop her transformation and her magic fade in the act. Too far away to detect direction without the amplification of the active transformation. Not sure whether she was pleased or disappointed, Homura scoffed and dropped her flare.

She wanted to know if this girl could be swayed to her side. It was looking very unlikely, but Homura had thought that about Kyōko in many timelines. Even in the most recent timeline, Kyōko had made her entrance by confronting Sayaka and immediately getting into a life-or-death duel; once that was broken up, she tried to start another duel. Initial aggression wasn't always indicative of eventual alignment. Sōju was a complete unknown, though, and allies were something she was not in short supply of these days, so Homura wouldn't be as patient as she was with Kyōko. If Sōju rejected the offer of parley, Homura's response would be a timestop and a bullet to the girl's Soul Gem. Simple as that.

Mami Tomoe appeared on a girder opposite Homura, transformed and frowning. She held one of her rifles in a downward-facing ready stance and scanned for enemies before looking back to Homura. Homura huffed and nodded a greeting to her, making sure to leave her arms crossed to not seem about to attack. Mami hesitantly let her rifle dissolve into yellow sparkles and hopped girders to get close enough to speak.

“I felt your magic. What happened?” Mami asked. “I thought maybe that girl you mentioned attacked you and you might need help.”

“She did,” Homura said sourly. She noted that Mami had warmed to her enough to come to her defense. Good? “On the other side of town. She ambushed me as I was exiting a Familiar labyrinth.”

Mami looked surprised. “You fight Familiars?”

“Of course,” Homura said with a casual wave. “Aside from their predations, it takes less magic to nip them in the bud than to face them once they have matured. Provided one is conservative with their magic use.”

That was definitely approval on Mami's face. Targeting Familiars despite the “waste” of magic was the biggest moral standard Mami held herself to-- the one that often got her abandoned by other magical girls she tried to work with.

“Did she say what she wants?” Mami asked.

“No,” Homura replied, glancing east again. At this point, it would do no good to mention the potential involvement of the Incubator. She looked back at Mami. “I told her to approach me without transforming and talk it out with me because if she attacks me again, I will fight back and... possibly kill her.”

Mami's face went troubled, but she nodded after a moment. “Self-defense is self-defense,” she said slowly. “And it's not like you haven't tried to be diplomatic.” Mami tilted her head and searched Homura's face. “I respect that you've been... moderate despite being attacked. A lot of girls wouldn't bother.”

Homura stared at her flatly. “I try to avoid making enemies unnecessarily. Rivalries benefit no one.”

A tentative smile softened Mami's face. “I think I was wrong about you. I apologize.”

Looking at her sideways and nodding, Homura slowly said, “Thank you. I know I am... standoffish. And my hatred of the-- Kyubey is off-putting to many magical girls.”

“Yes, it is,” Mami agreed. “But... I think it's starting to make some sense. I just wish you would tell me more. The secrecy is what makes you most suspicious.”

Homura tried to project frankness. “I feel you would react better to my information if you figure out a few things yourself first. I would rather outright tell you I am not ready to explain things than lie to you.”

The blonde looked thoughtful. “I... suppose I can respect that.” She sighed and relaxed. “I need to get home. I have a cake in the oven. I don't want it to burn.” Mami shifted nervously and said, “Would you.... like to come over?”

Homura eyed her uncertainly.

Mami clasped her hands behind her back and looked a touch shy. “I think... we could get along. If we try. And... um, if Kyubey's there, I'll ask him to leave out of... consideration for you.” She glanced at Homura, cut her eyes away, and gave a little self-deprecatory laugh. “But he hasn't exactly been around much, anyway.” She looked up again and smiled wanly. “I guess I've been... kind of lonely.”

 _God_ , Homura hated seeing her this vulnerable. But if she was outright admitting it to a virtual stranger when her habit was to bury it, she must be desperate. The Incubator's apparent distance was interesting. Homura decided to try to reach out to her. If she could keep Mami stable, maybe she would react better to the secrets. And who was she to waste a chance to edge out the Incubator?

“I understand,” Homura said. “I would be glad to visit with you. I do not know how long I can stay, though. I have reading to do... for class.” Actually, whatever jargon Urahara had sent her. But Mami had always emphasized being a good student in addition to being a good magical girl when Homura and the others became her apprentices. She would happily accept that excuse.

Mami's entire face broke into a sunny smile. “That's great! That's fine! Hopefully, you'll be able to stay long enough to try my cheesecake! I-it's only a small one, but it's more than enough for two!”

Not for the first time, Homura wondered how much of Mami's baking and sharing was an attempt to attract friends. Nodding, she said, “Yes. Please, lead the way.”

Homura was a bit disgruntled by how quick Mami was to leave her back open to her, but followed her without mentioning it.

§ x § x §

When they arrived at the the apartment and released their transformations, Homura's phone blew up with notifications. She sat and grimly read Sayaka's edgy texts about the Incubator's visit the night before while Mami bustled in the kitchen. After some brief exchanges-- yes, it was gone, no, it hadn't come back-- Homura praised Sayaka's resistance and responded to the girl's worry about Mami by saying she was actually at her apartment trying to bridge the gap. She smiled ruefully at the hurricane of happy emojis that Sayaka spammed her with in return.

“Is everything all right?” Mami asked as she set a tray with tea and cake on the table. “You looked angry.”

“Ah. Yes. It is fine now,” Homura said after a moment of surprise. Then she stopped. She didn't know whether to say the Incubator had visited Sayaka or make something up.

“I see,” Mami said as she set the table. “May I ask what happened? Or is it too private?”

Homura pursed her lips. Mami let the silence drag. Finally, Homura cautiously said, “It was Miki. She was upset.” She waited for Mami to put the teapot down so she wouldn't drop it. “Kyubey went to her window last night. It disturbed her.”

Mami's eyes widened in surprise. Then she frowned in disappointment. “I've told him that pressuring girls into doing things is rude. He doesn't seem to understand it.”

Homura tilted her head and eyed Mami speculatively. “Is it that it does not understand, or that it does not _want_ to understand?” When the only response she got was a stare, she continued, “We outright told it that it was behaving like a stalker. Miki made her disinterest clear. She said it at least bothered to ask permission to come into her room and cooperated when she denied it entry, but it sat on her windowsill and made its sales pitch again.”

“Maybe... Kyubey doesn't...,” Mami trailed off in confusion.

“What would you think if it had not been that creature, but a boy Miki had turned down who scaled her apartment building and sat on her fourth floor balcony trying to woo her?”

Mami's mouth turned down doubtfully. “Well, obviously-- obviously, it would be quite disturbing,” she said quietly.

Homura sipped her tea and let Mami think for a minute, then softly asked, “Do you see why I hate its tactics?”

After a long silence, Mami said, “Yes,” just as softly. “I don't think he intends it that way, though....”

“Does intent matter if the action is disturbing and continues after being strongly discouraged?”

Mami picked at her cake unhappily. “I think... I need to talk to him. And think about this.” She looked up and searched Homura's face. Mami Tomoe was many things, but _stupid_ was not one of them. “Is this the thing you want me to work through before you talk to me?”

“One of them, yes,” Homura said coolly.

Mami stared at her pensively as they continued to eat their cake. When the tension got deeply uncomfortable, Homura murmured, “Your cake is delicious. How did you learn to bake so well?”

Mami's face lit up. “Well--”

§ x § x §

Madoka had trouble sleeping Sunday night. Her day had soured after the hushed phone call she had received from Sayaka. She kept glancing at windows whenever she noticed movement. In the dark of her room that night, she tossed uneasily and kept sitting up to peer past her curtains and make sure the Incubator wasn't there. She didn't know what on earth she would do if its beady red eyes were there to greet hers one of these times, but couldn't stop checking. If only Yoruichi was there to guard her! What little sleep she got was restless, cluttered with disjointed dreams she mostly forgot every time she woke with a little gasp to check the window.

Finally accepting that sleep was beyond her as the sky began to lighten, Madoka got up and puttered in the kitchen. She was blearily sitting at the table and staring out the window at the garden as it became visible in the predawn light when her father came in. It took him a couple tries to get her attention.

“Madoka?”

Madoka turned to him with a drowsy “Hmmmm?”

Tomohisa scrubbed his face with his hands and cracked a yawn. “What are you doing up this early, sweetheart?”

It took a moment for Madoka to process the question. “I couldn't sleep.”

Her father frowned in concern. “Are you feeling okay?” He shuffled over and pressed a hand to her brow. “Hmm, no fever. Do you feel sick?”

“No, Papa,” Madoka said softly. “Just... a lot of... not _bad_ dreams, I don't think, but, like... short dreams that keep surprising me awake. And I can't remember them, but I keep thinking--” She caught herself before she could be too honest about fearing the Incubator. “I keep checking the window like someone is watching me when I wake up. But there's never anything there.”

Tomohisa carded his fingers through her hair and deftly undid the tangles her night of tossing had caused. “Maybe you're thinking of the cat that got in last week?”

If only he knew. “Yeah... maybe...,” Madoka murmured and sipped from the mug of hot chocolate she had made.

“Speaking of the cat. Have you seen it around anymore?”

Madoka blinked slowly and tilted her head back to squint up at him. He looked worried. She was too tired to decide what to say so she just kept squinting at him blearily, as though she couldn't understand the question.

“It's just... I think it wasn't hurt as badly as we thought that morning,” Tomohisa said. “Maybe it was the adrenaline? There wasn't as much fur and blood as I thought there would be when I went back later. If it's not hurt as bad as we thought, I was wondering if you've seen it hanging around.” He tilted his head and looked at her carefully. “Madoka?”

She was never good at keeping guilt off her face. “Yeah... I think?” She shifted uncomfortably and cut her eyes back to the garden. “Well, um, _a_ white cat. But... I dunno if it's the same.”

“Where?”

“Uh... you know... _around_ ,” Madoka said with a vague wave of her hand, keeping her eyes on her mug. She faked a yawn for good measure.

After a minute of quiet, her father squeezed her shoulder and said, “Just be sure to keep your window closed.”

Madoka nodded. “Okay, Papa.”

§ x § x §

Madoka left for school extremely early, taking her time picking her way to the campus as she thought. She was surprised to find Sayaka already at their usual place, sitting on a large rock and looking distracted. Madoka greeted her tiredly.

Sayaka lifted her head and blinked slowly. “Mornin', Raccoon Eyes.”

A fleeting smile graced Madoka's face. “You couldn't sleep, either?”

“Nooope.” Sayaka glumly kicked a rock into the stream. “Kept checking the windows for Incucreeper like I'm in a slasher flick or something.”

“Me, too.”

Madoka joined her friend on the rock. They leaned against each other and tiredly watched the first trickle of students arriving. Homura was both early and surprised to see them. Sayaka smiled wanly and waved. “Hey, Stranger Danger.”

Homura stared at them solemnly for a long moment, then walked up to them and offered them each candy. She said nothing, but sat on Madoka's other side and waited for Hitomi with them. Her silent presence made Madoka feel safe.

The school day went well. They caught a glimpse of Mami during a break and the girl tentatively smiled and waved. Madoka and Sayaka waved back cheerfully and Homura offered her own cautious nod. Madoka felt fiercely happy at the progress.

Hitomi joined them at the outdoor café for treats before running off for her lessons. Sayaka clapped once and announced, “I heard Kyōsuke is doing better again! I wanna go visit him. Wanna come and wait for me and we can go to my place after?”

“Sure!” Madoka cheered. When she glanced at Homura, she thought the girl's face was relieved. Maybe they were going to her place too often? Hmm.

Sayaka babbled the entire way to the hospital. Madoka and Homura trailed behind her and traded amused glances now and then. When Madoka and Homura sat in the lobby and watched Sayaka practically dance into an elevator, Homura actually snorted something like a laugh. Madoka added to her tally of improvement in her new friend's demeanor. It was like she was slowly defrosting. But the longer they sat there, the more Homura started to fidget and frown. She looked restless, her wary eyes scanning the lobby as she checked a pocket repeatedly.

“What's wrong?” Madoka asked.

Homura pressed her lips together grimly. “I feel magic,” she murmured under her breath. “Twisted magic. I think there may be a magical girl with a badly corrupted Soul Gem nearby.”

“You feel it?” Madoka asked. She looked around at all the oblivious people.

“Hey, guys! I'm done!” Sayaka announced as she strolled up to them. “Kyōsuke had to go for-- what? What is it?”

Madoka was about to answer but a shiver ran down her spine. Homura jumped to her feet and intensely looked at something behind Madoka. Turning in her seat, Madoka saw a girl with long white hair running through the busy adults. The girl had tears on her cheeks and looked heartbroken.

On her left hand, something sparked with blackness.

Homura grabbed her bag and charged off after the girl without another word. Madoka and Sayaka scrambled to follow. They trailed the girl out the door and along the sidewalk, turning the corner to the bike racks as the girl fell to all fours and wailed. The breath was knocked out of Madoka and Sayaka when Homura dropped her bag, transformed, and did something that made the air suddenly heavy and tingly, then leapt forward faster than Madoka could track. Homura skidded to her knees and roughly grabbed the girl's left hand. Black energy spiked as a corrupt Soul Gem manifested above the girl's hand, but suddenly stopped when Homura forced a Grief Seed against the corrupted Gem.

Madoka and Sayaka hovered nearby, afraid to move though the creepy spine-chilling feeling had subsided. They watched as the blackness from the Soul Gem was drawn into the Grief Seed like sand through an hourglass until it shone white. With a flash of milky light, the Gem turned back into a ring on the girl's hand. When Homura sighed her relief and the tension left her body, Madoka and Sayaka exchanged a glance and cautiously approached.

The white-haired girl seemed to still be oblivious to Homura, too preoccupied with uncontrollable crying. Madoka caught Homura's worried glance to the ring on the girl's hand.

“Despair,” Sayaka muttered beside her. More loudly, but uncertainly, Sayaka said, “Hey, Homura. You said the... thing... happens when the Soul Gem isn't cleaned _or_ if a magical girl... despairs, right?”

Homura looked up at them, face solemn, glanced to the ring and back at them, and nodded. Sayaka chewed her lip and made several abortive movements, unsure what to do. Homura let go of the hyperventilating girl's hand and cautiously lay her hands on the shaking shoulders. Face hesitant then resolved, she firmly said, “Breathe.”

The girl startled and looked up with a gasp. Homura's face firmed into something more authoritative and she repeated her command. “ _Breathe_.”

Madoka cringed internally. It... wasn't exactly a sympathetic face. But it at least seemed to catch the smaller girl off guard enough for her to automatically obey.

“In and out. Breathe,” Homura said.

The girl stared up at her, hiccuping through her tears. She looked Homura up and down. “You're-- you're a ma-magical girl?”

“Yes.” Homura stared more intensely. “You need to calm down or your Soul Gem may turn dark again.”

Fresh tears welled up in the girl's eyes as her face crumpled back into despair. “B-but my momm-mmy died an-nd it's all my fault!”

Madoka and Sayaka inhaled sharply.

“What happened?” Homura asked.

“I-- my-- my _wish_ ,” the girl sniffled. “I made a st-stupid, _stupid_ wish! I could've sa-saved her but I did something so _dumb!_ ”

Madoka and Sayaka looked at each other with pale faces. Neither needed to say anything: It was exactly like Homura had warned them. Wishes were dangerous things.

Homura's face softened a bit with pity, but she also looked like she didn't know what to do. Madoka took a deep breath, shoved her school bag at Sayaka, and marched up to the kneeling magical girls. She dropped to her knees next to Homura and held out open arms. “I'm sure you didn't mean for it to go like this. I'm so sorry that happened.”

The girl threw herself into Madoka's arms with a wail and nearly hugged the breath out of her.

Madoka held her, rocked her gently, and murmured soothing words into her hair. Her own eyes teared up with empathy. This close, Madoka thought she sensed something; like she could actually feel the girl's grief. Something made the hair on her arms prickle like static electricity. Was this magic?

She felt more than she saw Homura release her transformation as she stood up and said, “Shall we go into the park and sit somewhere quiet?”

The crying girl cuddled into Madoka and nodded. Madoka stood and helped the girl up, but her knees buckled. Sayaka jumped forward and caught her from behind with a loud “whoops!”

“M'sorr-sorr-rry,” the girl mumbled.

“No prob! I gotcha!” Sayaka said warmly. “Hey, Madoka, hold her up a sec?”

Madoka held a steadying hand to the wobbly girl's arm as Sayaka turned her back to them and knelt. Homura stepped aside and gathered all their school bags as Sayaka glanced over her shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

“Hop on!” Sayaka said. “The Miki Express is now boarding!” Madoka smiled gratefully and helped the girl climb on Sayaka's back, then helped Sayaka stand. When Sayaka gained her feet and adjusted her grip, she looked at Homura with a determined smirk. “All aboard! Miki Express now departing! Lead on, Stranger Danger!”

The little girl squeaked alarm. “Stranger danger?!”

“Whoooooops!” Sayaka said with an embarrassed laugh. She swiveled to make the little girl face Homura. “That's just my nickname for Homura over there. She's always giving us candy and cookies and stuff. It started as a joke and it just stuck.”

Homura nodded a silent greeting to the girl. Madoka wished she was more open, but she also noticed that Homura kept watching the girl's Soul Gem ring like a hawk. When she looked closer, Madoka saw that the milky gem-- tinged the faintest pink-violet now that she saw it up close-- was already dimmer than it had been. Homura's aloofness was understandable if she was wary of the girl turning into a Witch.

Madoka officially decided to take charge of comforting the girl so that Homura's attention would be less divided. _This_ was how she and Sayaka could help without contracting!

“This way,” Homura said quietly.

“Yes, ma'am!” Sayaka trilled. “Miki Express now leaving the station! Choo-chooooooo!”

From behind, Madoka couldn't help but notice the way Homura went rigid and paused mid-step. It was brief, but strange enough to notice. Was she mad that Sayaka was acting so lighthearted about the situation? It seemed to be calming the little girl-- whose name they _really_ needed to get-- so Madoka didn't know why Homura would be bothered.

They trooped through the wooded margin of the park and found a gazebo with a little round table and a circular bench. Sayaka dropped the little girl at a bench with a loud imitation of a train whistle and hissing steam brakes. Homura's face twitched, but returned to pleasant-yet-serious. They all sat at the table, Homura across from the new girl and Sayaka and Madoka in between on either side. Madoka reached for her school bag and rifled through it until she found a little packet of tissues.

Handing a tissue to the new girl, Madoka smiled gently and said, “Let's start over. My name is Madoka. It's a pleasure to meet you. Though, um... I'm sorry about the circumstances.”

“I'm Sayaka!” The blue-haired girl leaned forward with her elbows on the table and braced her chin in her hands as she smiled. She glanced sideways at Homura and lifted her brows expectantly.

“I am Homura Akemi,” she introduced herself. She gravely dipped her head. “I am sorry for your loss.”

The little girl sniffed hard and tried not to whimper. “M-my name is Nagisa.” She looked around at all their faces. “Are you all magical girls?”

“Just Homura over there,” Sayaka answered with a tilt of her head. “We're her plucky normal sidekicks.”

One side of Homura's face pulled into a brief frown of disapproval before smoothing out once more. She sighed and pushed her hair over a shoulder. “Madoka and Sayaka have the potential to become magical girls. However, I have advised them not to. Because of the danger... and the possibility of wishes going wrong.”

Nagisa's face crumpled again. “I wish you were there when I was gonna make my wish.”

Homura tilted her head. “When did you make your wish?”

Nagisa shrugged and held the tissue to her face.

“What date?” Homura pressed.

Madoka and Sayaka looked at her oddly but she kept staring at Nagisa.

“Wh-why does it matter?” Nagisa muttered.

“You never know,” Homura said calmly.

Nagisa sniffled and looked up at the gazebo ceiling. “Um, I didn't have school, so it was a Sunday. A week ago, I guess? Two?”

“March twenty-seventh? Or twentieth?” Homura asked.

Nagisa shrugged and held the tissue to her face again. “Why does it matter when it happened? It still got M-Mommy killed.”

Madoka rubbed the girl's back. “Can you tell us what happened?”

The girl looked around at them, then began. “W-well, um. I moved here with Daddy in February because Mommy got moved to this hospital. We're from Kinuma, and it's a little place so the fancy stuff Mommy needed for her cancer wasn't there so we came here. Our apartment is that way,” she said, pointing southwest. “Mommy got a little better, but then she got sicker again. Mommy and Daddy told me Mommy was d-dying.” Nagisa covered her face and cried.

Madoka stroked her hair and made hushing sounds, looking at her friends worriedly. They both looked grim.

“M-Mommy was on funny medicine and talked a lot about things we used to do and she wanted something one more time b-b'fore she d-died but Daddy said we didn't have enough money because rent and Mommy wanted it _so ba-ad_ so when Kyubey came-- when Kyubey came, I wished for-- that.”

“Wished for what?” Homura asked quietly.

Nagisa's face flushed dark red as it twisted into a wretched expression and she muttered something unintelligible.

“What was that?” Sayaka asked.

After a long pause, Nagisa whispered, “A cheesecake.”

Everyone stared, stunned silent.

“What,” Homura said flatly after a long pause.

Nagisa hunched down and squeaked, “A cheesecake.”

Madoka looked up at her friend and saw mounting anger in Homura's usually placid face.

“You. Wished. For. _What?_ ”

“I to- _told_ you it was really dumb,” Nagisa whimpered. “I should've-- I should've wished for Mommy to get better. Then we could have all the cheesecake she wanted w-when we got more money.”

“A _cheesecake_ ,” Homura echoed, expression appalled.

Nagisa covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

Madoka saw Homura's glance and followed it. The Soul Gem in the silver ring had dimmed more. Madoka looked up at Homura and held out a cautionary hand. “Stop, Homura. I think she's angry enough at herself without you being angry, too.”

Homura sat back and heaved a gusty sigh. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I'm not angry at _her_ ,” she grit out. Violet eyes opened as windows to endless fury as she spat, “I want to _kill_ that white _rat!_ ”

Madoka said nothing, but gently wrapped her arms around Nagisa as she cried. Sayaka was looking at Homura, grim agreement in the tightness of her lips and narrowness of her eyes.

Sayaka turned to Nagisa. “Don't feel too bad,” she said unhappily. “That thing tricked you.”

“Thing?” Nagisa asked, surprised out of her tears.

“The Incubator,” Homura said coldly.

“The what?”

“The lab rat that calls itself Kyubey,” Sayaka sneered. She sat upright and pounded a fist into her opposite hand. “I want to punt that thing off a _cliff_. No, into a _volcano_.”

“Kyubey is... bad?” Nagisa asked in confusion.

“Damn right it is!” Sayaka snarled.

Homura sighed and relaxed some. “I can explain it to you, but I fear it may upset you further.”

Nagisa shrugged Madoka off and sat up straighter. “Will it-- will it make me angry?”

“Probably,” Homura answered. “And probably depressed.”

Face firming, Nagisa said, “I want to be angry.”

Homura tilted her head and scrutinized her. Nagisa stared right back with a trembling scowl, hazel eyes glassy with unshed tears. Homura closed her eyes and sighed. “I can explain, but I do not think we have time to do so today. The people in the hospital are probably looking for you.”

Nagisa wilted again. “O-oh.” She looked up from behind her bangs. “But... you'll tell me?”

“Yes. You will probably be quite busy for the next few days,” Homura said. Madoka thought there was something mournful in her eyes. “I will give you my phone number.” She rifled in her school bag as she spoke, fetching a notebook and pen. “Call me when... your family's preparations are done. And I want you to call me if anything happens in the meantime. If you find a Familiar or a Witch, or if another magical girl bothers you... but especially if your Soul Gem gets dark.” She wrote her name and number on the notepad, paused, and passed it to Sayaka. Sayaka took it and fiercely wrote her own contact information on it.

Nagisa looked at her ring. “Why?”

Madoka wove her fingers into Nagisa's splayed hand. “Something very bad happens if a magical girl's Soul Gem gets too dirty,” she explained gently. “It's... like... ummm.” Wait, Homura wanted to wait to explain. Stupid, stupid--

“It may as well be death,” Homura said.

That worked. Madoka took a deep breath and continued, “It very nearly happened to you when we followed you. But Homura saved you with a Grief Seed.”

Nagisa whipped her head up and looked at Homura in surprise. “You saved me?”

Tilting her head and looking melancholy, Homura shrugged. “I suppose. As much as a magical girl can be said to be saved, anyway.”

Madoka decided Homura needed a hug.

“Anyway,” Homura said in her neutral-bordering-pleasant tone, “I will clean your Gem again with what is left of the Grief Seed. Then we can relax until you are found. Or go back to the hospital right away, if you wi-want.”

Madoka smiled sadly at her friend's avoidance of the word _wish_.

“I wanna stay with you guys,” Nagisa said as Homura sifted through her bag again and Sayaka pushed the notepad to Madoka, who scribbled her name and number on it and tore it off to give to Nagisa.

Homura nodded. “Your Soul Gem, please.”

Nagisa manifested the pale gem and held it out to Homura, who clinked the nearly-spent Grief Seed against it. Once it had brightened, they both sat back.

“Good,” Homura murmured. She tucked the Grief Seed in a pocket and pulled a tin out of her bag. “Would anyone like some candy while we wait?”

Sayaka's face brightened. She pumped a fist and cried, “Stranger Danger strikes again!”

It was enough to surprise a wet little giggle out of Nagisa. Madoka thought they could work with that.

§ x § x §

Red eyes watched them from the treeline until hospital security found them.

How unexpected. Nagisa Momoe had seemed an easy mark, yet she had been stabilized. Homura Akemi was quite the complicating variable. Especially in combination with Madoka Kaname and Sayaka Miki.

It did not like variables.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For Nagisa, the way I'm writing her is probably more childish than in the Rebellion movie. That version of her has ascended to a higher plane of existence and has acquired vast knowledge of the universe as part of the Law of Cycles. I see it as a maturing force, like it was for Rebellion!Sayaka. (Insecurities gone, more rational, etc.) So I'm going with Nagisa being more childish like Bebe as normal mode.


	54. DREIUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *pours some Bleach*
> 
> @some reviewers: Reviewers I get into PM exchanges with keep hinting that there is some kind of discussion/speculation going on about the story somewhere-- I think Space Battles has been mentioned-- and I am simultaneously super curious, excited, and terrified. I never thought I'd get this degree of attention and it blows my mind sometimes. I'm a lurker/hermit at heart.
> 
> Maybe I'll do a thread or something there someday. IDK. I feel like I want to do a massive editing project on the first arc of this story first. That'll probably come after this story arc wraps up. Which will be awhile yet lol.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**DREIUNDF ÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

_A cheesecake_ , Homura fumed on her way home for the evening. _The little idiot sold her soul for a_ cheesecake _._

Despite what she had said, _yes_ , Homura was furious at the little girl for making such a stupid wish. She understood it-- knew the blame really lay with the Incubator for finding someone gullible enough to make such a weak wish-- but the thought that the Sweets Witch that often killed Mami had been born of a wish as trivial as _a stupid cheesecake_ made her blood boil.

Madoka and Sayaka seemed to be very aware that she was angry, but unwilling to leave her alone. After parting from Momoe and hospital security, Homura hadn't felt like going to Sayaka's apartment. The others ended up tagging along after her as she seethed her way toward her own townhouse-- knowing them, they probably wanted to keep an eye on her at least as far as her place before they continued past. Fine. Whatever.

She was surprised by how much she wanted to snarl at Yoruichi over the new low she had found in the Incubator's operations. It was weird having someone who it was acceptable to vent and be angry around, but she kind of liked it. Even if it was a cat. A whim struck her: She wanted to call the Kurosaki girls and vent with them, too. So strange.

Homura sensed something odd when they were a block from her house. Madoka and Sayaka were finally making awkward attempts to start some kind of conversation when they rounded a corner and saw someone sitting on Homura's doorstep, boredly messing around with a smart phone as Yoruichi lazed next to him. Homura jerked to a halt mid-step and stared in confusion. Madoka and Sayaka bumped into her back. The person on the step glanced up at their double squeak of surprise.

“Ah. There you are, Akemi,” Tōshirō Hitsugaya droned.

“What,” Homura said flatly. She felt like her mind had ground to a stop and couldn't possibly be correct in telling her the shinigami was sitting in the middle of Incubator Central. Wouldn't this tip off the Incubator somehow?

Hitsugaya arched one eyebrow and straightened. “You act like you weren't expecting me.”

Homura turned her face hard to the side as though slapped and glared at him askance as she tried to restrain her outrage. “That would be because I was _not_.”

“Oh?” The boy shinigami levered himself up and dusted off his jeans. “I take it my uncle was lying about actually notifying you of the move date, then?”

 _What uncle?! What move?!_ she wanted to hiss. She would not let her eyes bug out. Would not. Instead, she grit out, “It would seem so.”

Hitsugaya clicked his tongue and scoffed. “I don't know why I ever expect anything better from him. What a pain.” He looked over Homura's shoulders and inclined his chin. “You must be Akemi's new friends. Kaname and... Miki, right?”

Homura felt a tic starting in one eye as her two oblivious friends made small sounds of surprise.

“Y-yeah,” Madoka said.

“Who're you?” Sayaka asked cautiously.

The boy pressed a button to mute his phone just as it started ringing and shoved it in his pocket. “Tōshirō Hitsugaya. I went to school with Akemi in Tokyo.”

What. Since when?!

Sayaka nosed forward with a coo, then elbowed Homura and crowed, “You didn't tell us you have a _boyfriend!_ ”

Madoka gasped delightedly as Homura rounded on Sayaka, appalled, and shrilled, “ _He's not my boyfriend!_ ”

“Ah, she's one of _those_ ,” Hitsugaya muttered with a long-suffering glance at the sky.

Sayaka's laughter was downright obnoxious. Madoka stifled giggles and patted Homura's shoulder as Homura tried to shrug Sayaka off of her.

Hitsugaya watched blandly as Homura struggled with Sayaka. “I was actually her math tutor when she was ill.”

Surprised out of her teasing, Sayaka exclaimed, “Math tutor?! But she's so good at math!”

“Thank you,” he replied.

Her eye was definitely twitching. “I am not good at math because of _you_ ,” Homura hissed.

“I am aware,” he said with a smirk. “You did all the work. But I was there.” Hitsugaya's serious gaze bored into her own. _Play along_ , he seemed to be saying. _Reinforce the cover._

Homura worked her jaw as she clenched her fists at her sides, then abruptly crossed her arms and looked away with a snobby _hmph_.

Sayaka started snickering all over again. “You guys go way back, huh?” When Hitsugaya shrugged and didn't say anything, she leaned forward and said in a stage whisper, “Are you _sure_ you're not her boyfriend?”

Hitsugaya pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Will I ever go somewhere where people don't think I'm dating my friends who are girls?” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh, you have _a lot_ of girlfriends?” Sayaka squealed.

Hitsugaya gave her a deadpan stare, then looked heavenward and said, “Why.”

Laughing, Sayaka trilled, “Just teasing!”

“You shouldn't, Sayaka,” Madoka said. Lips curving slyly, she said, “We could say things about how far back you and Kamijō go, you know,” with a playful wink.

Sayaka flushed bright red and squawked.

“Sounds like I should talk to this Kamijō guy,” Hitsugaya said airily.

“No! Don't!”

And suddenly, Homura regained her footing. She glanced at Sayaka from the corner of her eyes and pleasantly said, “Ah, I understand. You are projecting.”

Sayaka's sputtered denials were unexpectedly satisfying.

“Anyway,” Hitsugaya said to regain their attention. “I thought I'd drop by with Yumi's gift right away so she doesn't annoy me by text all night.” He bent and lifted a box from the doorstep, then held it out to Homura by its elaborate yellow ribbon. “Brownies this time.”

“Yumi...?” Homura said slowly as she accepted the box.

Hitsugaya looked at her askance. “She gave it to me before I left Tokyo. You know how she is: Burying us in food, getting pissed if we don't eat it.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and stared at her evenly, willing her to understand.

A light went off in Homura's head: He meant Yuzu. She nodded and slowly said, “Yumi has sent me four boxes of cookies in two weeks.”

“Of course she has,” Hitsugaya said with a lazy roll of his eyes. “Do me a favor and message her that you got the box so she doesn't get on a train and hunt me down.”

“Of course,” Homura sighed.

“Thanks.” He glanced at each of the girls. “I'm starting at your school tomorrow, by the way.”

Sayaka and Madoka made sounds of interest. Homura stared flatly again. _What was going on?_

“Maybe you'll be in our class!” Madoka said brightly.

“I won't,” Hitsugaya said. “I'm a year ahead of you all.”

Homura's friends _awwwed_ in disappointment. For her part, Homura thought fast. A year ahead... Mami's class, maybe?

“Oh, well. Maybe you can eat lunch with us, though?” Madoka said.

“Maybe another day. I'll be figuring out where everything is and whatever tomorrow. But maybe I can take you all to my uncle's shop after school so you can watch Akemi tear into him.” He looked back to Homura. “Can we go in and talk for a minute? I'll explain whatever my idiot uncle didn't.”

Moving. Shop. Idiot uncle who doesn't tell her things.

The “uncle” was Kisuke Urahara and this was the _idea_ he had mentioned but not explained.

There went the tic in her eye again.

“Ah, we'll leave you, then,” Madoka said politely. She grabbed Sayaka's hand and tugged her along as she started to leave. “We'll see you tomorrow!” she said with a wave. “Welcome to Mitakihara!”

Hitsugaya murmured a reply and waved at them. When they were a block away, he turned to Homura and looked at her expectantly. Homura glanced around them at rooftops and shadows, looking for an Incubator. Yoruichi rubbed at her ankles then walked away, jumped up onto a window sill and looked around. They had a sentry. Homura nodded sharply and brought Hitsugaya into her home.

As soon as the door was closed, Homura hissed, “ _What_ is going on? _Why_ wasn't I told any of this? Why wasn't I _asked?!_ ”

Sighing as he kicked off his shoes, Hitsugaya answered, “Don't look at me. Urahara told me you had been apprised of the plan.” He looked up at her. “I'll brief you on the cover story. Details are in a notebook in the box of brownies.”

Homura huffed, tossed her school bag aside, and looked at the box in her hand. “Ridiculous.”

“Most things with Urahara are, really. You get used to it. It never gets less annoying, but you get used to it.”

With a sharp wave of her hand, Homura beckoned him over to the living room table and plopped down to open the box. “If Yuzu is Yumi, what is Karin?”

“Kikyo,” Hitsugaya said boredly as he sat across from her. “She rattled off something about why but I stopped listening after _badass undead miko soul possessing a fake body_.”

Homura looked at him weirdly. He just shrugged, so she dropped the subject. “By the way, why doesn't your magic feel... the same? As strong?”

“Reiatsu. And it's a new gigai with a more complex power limiter,” he answered. “As a captain, I am capable of controlling my reiatsu tightly, but it's easier to have a gigai do most of the work for me to prevent slip-ups or inconsistencies. We decided to go with me having enough power to see and fight spirits on a high level but be believably human. Basically, like Karin was before she contracted. I have ways to break the seals or leave the gigai altogether in an emergency.”

Homura stared silently for a moment, then looked down and lifted the plastic box of brownies out of the cardboard box to access the notebook beneath it. She flipped through its pages for a moment, then set it down and said, “A summary, please.”

Hitsugaya took a deep breath and began.

§ x § x §

Mami smiled and greeted her classmates as she sat at her desk and arranged her materials for first period. School was strange these days-- somewhere between empty formality, a taunt of watching normal relationships she hadn't had in years, a hope of connecting with the potential magical girls a year behind her, and an escape from her duties. These last couple weeks, she had been floating through the school day on a superficially smiling autopilot. She was uncertain about everything she had thought she had known. Kyubey was still keeping his distance. The stability she had carefully crafted for herself was shaky.

She wished she still had Kyōko to talk to.

Her musing was interrupted by the teacher announcing a transfer student. Mami perked up in interest and watched a boy with messy white hair walk into the room and stand in front of the class. His body language bespoke thinly disguised boredom, but his eyes were sharp and attentive as they darted from face to face. He made eye contact with Mami, glanced at the next face, then doubled back to look at her again. He tilted his head ever so slightly; then Mami felt something that made her inhale sharply in surprise. A strong _presence_ ; cold, but not threateningly so...

A _boy_ with magic?

_Since when could_ boys _have magic?!_

The magic flare faded as he stared at her, curious. She darted her eyes around to see if anyone had noticed him looking at her while the teacher introduced him, then slightly flared her own magic. It was the weirdest greeting ever. Was Mami imagining that Tōshirō Hitsugaya looked impressed?

He was assigned a seat behind and to Mami's left. Mami spent the morning distracted by trying to figure out the boy and his magic. It was like a fragment of quiet winter was hovering in the back of the room. She was probably entirely too obvious about her glances over her shoulder and her scrutiny when he went to the board to solve an equation, but she couldn't care. A _boy_ having magic was yet another crack in her concept of reality and she was desperate to solve the puzzle.

Their last class before lunch was gym. The girls went first for their soccer rotation. Afterward, they sat in the shade and watched the boys play. It quickly became apparent that Hitsugaya was an ace soccer player, much to the appreciation of the girls and the alarm of the opposing team.

Two of the girls Mami had been close with before she contracted scooted over to sit on either side of her. The uncommonly scheming looks on their faces startled her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The girls' smiles got smug. “Don't think we haven't seen you looking at Hitsugaya all day,” Hanako said slyly.

“W-what?!”

Kisa grinned. “Can't say I blame you. He sure is _cute_.”

Cheeks pink, Mami waved her arms and sputtered, “That's not it at all!”

“Suuure it's not,” both girls chorused together.

They all glanced at a ruckus from the field. Hitsugaya was coming down from a jump, having stolen the ball from midair with a chest bump. The boys around him were too surprised to move for the ball, so he kicked it at the goal with such force that the goalie screeched and dodged it. Hitsugaya's team cheered. Kisa and Hanako cooed.

“You should try to sit with him at lunch,” Kisa said.

“Yeah-- move quick before the other girls snag him,” added Hanako.

“What--! No!” Mami hissed.

“We'll run interference,” Kisa said with an unholy glint in her eye. “And when you start dating, you can give us cake to thank us.”

Hanako clucked and shook her head disparagingly. “Always with the cake,” she huffed. Then she looked at Mami and smiled gently. “We know you've been... distant... since the accident. And you have a hard time by yourself. We can't _really_ understand, I guess, but it makes sense you'd be depressed. It's been hard seeing you lose interest in so much we used to do together.”

Kisa leaned in and held a finger to Mami's lips to stop her usual polite denials. “You're actually showing interest in someone. It's nice to see. We want to help.”

Mami was suddenly struck by how much she missed her old friends. They hadn't gone anywhere, but the distance imposed by being a magical girl... well. Mami was the one who effectively went away. She was always declining invitations, always pushing them away; she hardly remembered their likes and dislikes anymore. She really didn't deserve them.

“That's really... nice of you, but I'm not... um... I'm just... um....”

“Crushing on him?” Kisa suggested with a leer.

“No! It's not-- it's just-- he seems--!” How was Mami supposed to disguise that her interest was the magical mystery he presented? Well, technically, a crush would work, but... that would get _really_ awkward _really_ quickly. Already _was_ awkward. She buried her face in her hands and gave up on talking.

Why was her life so tumultuous lately? It had been so routine for so long that she was having trouble keeping up with the new zigzags.

Mami was still fretting over what to do as lunch started. She was usually decisive, but she was slipping into default hesitancy about everything since Homura Akemi arrived. Uncertainty had her biting her lip and looking down at her bento when a shadow fell over her and she felt that cold magic.

“Excuse me,” said a low, quiet voice.

When she looked up, the new boy was standing over her, face curious. A quick glance past him showed her Kisa and Hanako leaning toward each other and gleefully watching with stars in their eyes. Mami looked back up at Hitsugaya. “Yes?”

He tilted his head and looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “I was wondering if you would let me eat with you, and maybe be willing to show me around a bit after we eat.” He glanced at her left hand. At her Soul Gem ring.

He could see it. And seemed to attach significance to it. Her heart raced. What was going on?

“Oh! Of-- of course!” Mami said with a smile. They couldn't talk about magic in public, but they had to start _somewhere_. She gestured at her desk. “Please feel free to pull up a chair.”

Hitsugaya murmured his thanks and did so. As they unwrapped their lunches, Mami introduced herself. He blinked and looked up at her again. “Ah. So _you're_ Tomoe. My friend who moved here from Tokyo before me mentioned you.”

“Your friend?” Mami asked, surprised that someone would talk about her.

“Yes. Homura Akemi. She's a year behind us.” Hitsugaya looked into her eyes with an even stare as Mami froze. “I was her math tutor at our school in Tokyo before she moved here and... recovered.”

Mami furrowed her brow. “Recovered?”

Hitsugaya glanced down and snapped his chopsticks apart. “She had a heart condition. Before....” His eyes darted back up with a significant look, one brow raised slightly. He glanced at her ring and back again.

“Before...? Oh,” Mami said. Before her contract. _Hitsugaya knew about the contract?_

“Anyway,” he said calmly as as he poked around in his bento, “she said that she had met you a few times. Said you remind her of our friend Yumi.”

“How so?” Mami asked. She hesitantly started eating her own lunch.

“Akemi says you bake a lot. Is that true?”

“Ah-- yes.”

The boy nodded. “Yumi is constantly cooking and baking for friends. She's been mailing cookies to Akemi for awhile. Sent me with brownies when I moved. Any occasion to sit down and talk is an occasion to sit down and eat cake or something. When Akemi visited last week, Yumi buried her in homemade food.”

Mami's face reddened. “That... does sound like me,” she said with a sheepish smile.

One corner of Hitsugaya's mouth turned up. “Then we should get along,” he said casually. “You'll probably get along well with Akemi if you run into each other more, if you're patient. She just doesn't trust easily. She plays her cards close to the vest until she's more certain about a person.” Again, he looked her in the eyes, to her ring, and back again.

Mami used chewing as an excuse to mull that over in the context of his knowing about magical girls. “Miss Akemi _has_ been... a bit confusing. Warm and cold, I suppose.”

Hitsugaya shrugged. “Sounds right. That's just how she is with pretty much everyone. Even the people she likes.”

She thought hard. _So the reticence isn't specifically triggered by me?_ Slowly, Mami said, “The few times we've met, she's said there are things that she's... not comfortable with speaking of with me yet. And implied that it could be a barrier if I don't take it well.” This time _Mami_ caught _his_ eye and glanced to her ring. “Do you know what she's talking about?”

“I do,” Hitsugaya said without hesitation, face frank. “But if she hasn't told you, I won't go against her choice.”

“I see,” Mami said, disappointed.

“She's had a hard time of things and has lost a lot of people,” he added quietly. “Once burned, twice shy. I don't want to burn her. If you know what I mean.”

Thinking of how jaded Kyōko had become after her family died, Mami sighed. “I understand.” They lapsed into quiet eating for a few minutes. “I think... I would like to be her friend,” she said after awhile. “I'm just not sure how.”

Hitsugaya stared at her speculatively as he chewed. “Patience and ability to continue functioning through bad news are the trick, really,” he finally said. “Roll with it when she gets bitter. Yumi and her sister say that sometimes she gets cold and snappy to try to push people away if she gets spooked by how close she's allowed someone to get to her.” He smirked wryly. “Kikyo says that about me, too. That we're both quiet and grumpy. Might be part of why we get along.”

“You don't seem grumpy to me,” Mami said warmly.

With a snort of dry humor, Hitsugaya said, “I'm in a good mood because I know I will probably witness Akemi tear into my uncle for being an idiot later. Otherwise, I admit to getting annoyed easily. I'm a serious person but a lot of people... our age are _not_.” He paused for a moment, hedged, then continued, “I... don't usually talk this much, but Akemi seems to think well enough of you that our mutual friends in Tokyo have given me the mission of not letting Akemi run into her own wall.” His face firmed back into seriousness. “When Akemi gets irritable, it's probably not personal. She just has so much to be bitter about that there are many things that _remind her_ of what she has to be bitter about. Or so Yumi says. She's far more of a people person than I am, so I'll just go with her verdict.” He shrugged. “Aside from that, the biggest thing Akemi probably looks for is being able to accept disturbing information without freaking out.”

“Disturbing stuff?” Mami asked carefully.

“Yes.” Hitsugaya looked her in the eye and heavily said, “There have been too many times when she has met other girls--” another significant glance at her ring; so other _magical girls_ \-- “who learned some information and turned on her. Attacked her.”

Mami's eyes widened. “Attacked?”

“ _Attacked_ ,” Hitsugaya repeated grimly. “Some people reject painful truths. Violently.”

An echo of what Akemi had said at their first confrontation played in her head. “ _I just ask that you do not surprise me from behind. I may attack on reflex. I have learned the hard way to beware ambushes.”_

Disturbed, Mami asked, “Was it regarding... whatever she's avoiding telling me?”

“Yes.”

Mami thought back to what Akemi had said and what questions the two potential contractees had asked her. Something with Kyubey's methods and Soul Gems and spirits and Witches. Something that made other magical girls flip out. Her unease intensified. “I see.”

After a minute of contemplation, Hitsugaya carefully said, “Akemi and her new friends are coming to my uncle's shop this afternoon. You can come with if you like.”

Startled, Mami gasped, “Oh, I wouldn't want to impose--!”

He lazily waved her off. “It's no trouble. And I'd actually like to throw you two together more often. She doesn't like to admit it, but I think she needs as many friends--” a glance at her ring; _magical girl allies_ \-- “as she can get. If you want to try, that is.”

Face warming, Mami said, “Yes!”

Hitsugaya smiled faintly. “I'll wait for you on the path.”

Mami nodded. The boy's face and posture shifted back into what seemed to be his default aloofness-- similar to Akemi, now she thought about it. Then she looked over his shoulder and saw that Kisa and Hanako were still excitedly watching from the other side of the room. They looked enraptured, actually clasping each other's hands. A couple other girls were watching suspiciously. Most of her conversation with Hitsugaya had been quiet, but they had gotten louder at the end.

Their classmates probably thought they were going on a date. Hitsugaya seemed oblivious. _Really awkward really fast_ had probably been an understatement.

§ x § x §

“I wonder where Midnight the Conqueror is,” Sayaka thought aloud as they waited for Hitsugaya on the path away from school.

“With her, who knows?” Homura muttered.

Sayaka popped her sucker back in her mouth and eyed the magical girl warily. Homura had been irritable and snappy as hell all day. It apparently had something to do with Hitsugaya's uncle, but she had been tight-lipped. Before they all parted that morning, Hitsugaya had blandly told her he wouldn't interfere with whatever revenge plot she came up with. Sayaka was morbidly curious about what their afternoon would be like. It sounded like a tossup between _prepare the popcorn_ and _run for the hills_.

“Oh! Tōshirō! And Mami, too!” Madoka gushed.

“Hitsugaya,” the boy corrected neutrally. Sure enough, Mami Tomoe was following him shyly as he strode toward them. That was interesting.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Hitsugaya,” Madoka said with a hand in front of her mouth.

“It's fine. At least you actually listen. Unlike some people I know.” He glanced aside and muttered something resentful. Then he looked at Homura, face somewhere between stubborn and bored. “I invited Tomoe. Deal with it.”

Homura shrugged disdainfully and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It is your home. Who you invite is none of my business.”

Sayaka glanced at the other girls to see them also looking uncertain. The two old friends were blunt to the point of rudeness with each other but neither seemed angry. They actually seemed borderline pleasant in spite of the deadpan. Weird. Maybe that was why they got along.

“So... I thought we were going to a shop, not Hitsugaya's house,” Sayaka said slowly.

“We live behind the shop,” Hitsugaya said with a dismissive wave. “Come on. It's up near Asunaro.”

Sayaka quickly glanced at Madoka. Both remembered what Homura had said about a spell over Asunaro. They looked at Homura, who seemed to understand; she shook her head. _Don't say anything._

Hitsugaya led them to the train station, took them several stops north, and led them through the streets. They wound their way to an older area of town with more traditional buildings. He was quiet until they must have been approaching the shop.

“I must warn you,” he said drily. “My uncle is... eccentric.” He glanced aside as Homura clicked her teeth in annoyance, then continued. “He likes to tease people and can swing between silly and serious and back again at the drop of a hat. He's especially fond of making serious people crack. He doesn't mind if you tease or insult him back, but still: He's probably one of the more obnoxious people you will meet in your lifetime,” he said with a completely straight face.

“I concur,” Homura added immediately, voice clipped.

Both looked resigned. That was... honestly kinda worrying.

“There it is,” Hitsugaya said as they turned a corner.

Across the street was a fenced-in lot. The signpost over the neat open gate read High Spirits Magic & Tea. A stone path through minimal landscaping lead to what had once been a traditional Japanese house but had been converted to a shop. It had a lovely front veranda with rich woodwork. The corners of the tiled roof featured dangling wind chimes and a long shimenawa was artfully placed across the entire façade, the sacred rope dipping between each support beam.

“A magic shop?” Mami asked in surprise.

Homura tilted her head to one side and looked unimpressed. “At least he found one that looks less run-down this time,” she muttered.

Hitsugaya snorted in amusement. “Come on. I apologize in advance for any insanity.”

Sayaka felt a tingle when they crossed the threshold onto the property. She glanced at the other girls; they must have felt it too, as they looked unsettled. None of them said anything, though. They were halfway up the path when a man burst out the front door. He was wearing an olive green jinbei, the oversized top of which was so loosely tied as to bare half his chest. Over it he wore a black haori with a white diamond pattern along the hem. His face was shadowed by a green and white striped bucket hat; messy blond hair hung in his face and he was unshaven. Sayaka thought he looked scruffy. Kind of like he had rolled out of bed and jammed a hat on his head. What she could see of his face was wide awake and gleeful, though.

The man spread his arms wide and called out, “Welcome home! My darling nephew! So handsome in your new uniform! You left before I could see it and get pictures!”

“I'm not letting you take pictures,” Hitsugaya said dully. “And you slept in.”

“Shopkeeping is hard work! I need my beauty sleep!”

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. “Useless. No amount of beauty sleep can help you.”

“How cruel!” Urahara swooned, produced a fan from his sleeve, and held it to his forehead. He maintained the pose for a moment then looked past his nephew, jolted upright with wide eyes, and fluttered his fan over his mouth. “Oh, my! Dating four girls on your first day? Your father will be so proud!”

The girls all squawked-- though Homura sounded more appalled than embarrassed.

Hitsugaya quietly growled, “I'm not allowed to kill him.”

“And Kikyo makes five! Oh, my!”

“For the _last time_ , I'm not dating K-ikyo!” Hitsugaya snarled, red-faced.

“Hello, girls! I'm Kisuke Urahara! Welcome to the family!” He looked at his nephew again. “Harems are fun but you can only marry one of them legally, Toshi—WAH!” He dodged Hitsugaya's flying school bag, which the boy had hurled at him. “My _nephew_ is so _vicious!_ ” Urahara wailed.

“My _uncle_ is _insane!_ ”

“How rude! I didn't raise you to--”

“You didn't raise me at all!”

Sayaka was glad that Madoka and Mami, like her, could only stare in speechless confusion at the scene. Homura was seething, though.

Hitsugaya's uncle seemed to notice Homura for the first time. Face immediately brightening, he trilled, “My _darling_ Homura!”

“Akemi,” Homura corrected.

“Don't you dare say a word about her uniform,” Tōshirō grumbled.

Whether or not he actually heard his nephew, Urahara didn't miss a beat. “It's been so long since I heard from you!”

Homura frowned sourly. “It has been three days since our last conversation.”

“Three days _too long_ ,” Urahara mourned. “I thought you would come help us move in!”

“About that,” Hitsugaya said with a smirk.

Sayaka watched Homura's eye twitch dangerously. She saw Madoka actually take a nervous step back.

“ _Perhaps_ you should have told me your exact moving date. Or that you were moving at all,” Homura said acidly. “Your new address would also have been helpful.”

Urahara's arms fell. He slouched and pouted. “Then it wouldn't have been a surprise!”

Homura looked skeptical. “How could you expect me to help when you also wanted to surprise me?”

Urahara just pouted at her.

“You are a giant child,” Hitsugaya sneered. He stepped forward and said, “Get out of the doorway so we can get inside.”

Urahara pivoted on one geta-clad foot and clattered his way into the shop. Hitsugaya and Homura stepped forward. Sayaka shared wary glances with the other girls before following them.

When Sayaka had seen that it was a magic shop, she had assumed she would find playing cards and top hats and other tricks inside. Instead the shop was a neatly sorted array of crystals, incense, candles, books, and lucky charms. Half of the area was dedicated to shelves holding bins of dried herbs and teas. It was basically a psychic-supernatural-whatever shop, Sayaka guessed. Different kind of magic.

“Welcome to my humble shop!” Urahara crowed, throwing his arms wide. The girls were still looking around them when he said, “Ah, Tessai!”

Sayaka turned and saw a giant of a man emerging from the back room and taking a place at the shop's counter. Face serene, he adjusted his glasses, nodded genially at Homura, and said, “Miss Akemi. It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“Likewise, Mr. Tsukabishi,” Homura said politely. And with some degree of relief, Sayaka thought.

_Note to self: Big guy is probably less... nuts. Probably._

Sayaka waved awkwardly when it was her turn in Homura's round of introductions and Urahara's effusive greetings. She shuffled uncertainly with the other girls when the shopkeeper's demeanor suddenly shifted to seriousness.

“Now, Miss Akemi. Have you warded your home appropriately? I have yet to see a spirit here, but it's always best to be safe,” Urahara said in a far more reasonable tone.

“What?” Sayaka blurted. She saw Homura tense and cut her eyes between them and the shopkeeper. The air felt heavier. Stranger Danger was _pissed_.

“Spi-spirits?” Madoka squeaked.

Urahara gasped and fluttered his fan in front of his mouth. “Oh, my.” He looked at Homura with wide-eyed innocence. “I felt their power, so I assumed they know about spirits. I suppose I was wrong?”

Homura's eye twitched. She opened her mouth to speak, seemed to be too angry for words, and nodded jerkily.

“Oh, dear. How terribly rude of me. Well, you know what they say about when you _ass_ ume something, ahahaha~”

“You-- you know we have magic?” Sayaka asked hesitantly.

The scruffy shopkeeper looked her in the eye for the first time, gaze piercing from the shadow of the brim of his hat. “Oh, yes indeed,” he said softly. “I can feel it from here. Raw; immature; untrained; but definitely _there_.” He cocked his head to one side. “Have you ever seen ghosts?” He glanced between her and Madoka and Mami. “Any of you?”

Sayaka rocked back on her heels at the unexpected question. “I... don't know?”

“Hmm, hmm, hmm. Have any of you ever seen a person walking around with a chain dangling off their chest?” Urahara tapped his folded fan in the center of his chest. “There would also be a metal plate about here.”

Sayaka and Madoka frowned, but turned when Mami sharply sucked in a breath. Mami startled when everyone looked at her expectantly.

“Ah... a few times. Years ago,” Mami said haltingly. “When... when I visited Sendai with my parents. I was... maybe nine? Ten? It was-- it was funny, so I asked my mother about it. She always said no one was there and I had a good imagination.” Distressed, she asked, “That was a ghost?”

“Quite probably, especially if it was in Sendai. A city that big and old has a lot of spirits,” Urahara said soberly. He scrutinized her with his head canted to one side. His eyes strayed to Mami's left hand and back again. “Your magic is extremely focused and well-controlled. I see your ring. You are a magical girl, correct?”

Mami jolted, surprise escalating. “You can tell--? You know about--?” She looked from Urahara to Hitsugaya and back. “Wait, _you_ have magic, too! And you--!” she cried with a glance at the huge man in the back of the shop. Her face screwed up in confusion. “ _How?!_ ”

Urahara blinked and looked curious. “We were born with it, of course. Just like you.”

“But how do _boys_ have magic?!” Mami sputtered. “I've never-- today is the first time I've ever-- _what is going on?!_ ”

The shopkeeper looked deadly serious. “You don't need to be a magical girl to have magic, Miss Tomoe,” he said, pointing his fan at Madoka and Sayaka. Mami opened her mouth, but Urahara cut her off before she could speak. “Nor is magic limited to potential magical girls. There is a wide variety of what you call magic in this world. Magical girls are just one specific type of user.” Grinning faintly, he raised his free hand and pointed upward. Glimmering red light blinked into existence over his finger and whistled like a small firework, then disappeared like a spent sparkler.

Sayaka's eyes widened. Madoka's jaw dropped. Mami's eyes bugged out.

Stranger Danger and Hitsugaya looked completely unsurprised.

Urahara glanced at his nephew expectantly. Not moving from his spot leaning on a display case, the boy sighed and held his hand out in a similar way. Palm up, he made a flicker of blue-white light that rapidly blossomed into a spiky flower made of ice crystals. He cupped the ice sculpture in his hand and idly spun it with his thumb.

Sayaka realized something. Excited, she blurted, “You can use magic _without_ becoming a magical girl?!”

“Yeah,” Hitsugaya said, causing the ice flower to disintegrate into sparkles with a flex of his fingers.

Awesome. Awesome, awesome, _awesome!_

“Could we-- me 'n Madoka-- could _we_ use _ours?!_ ”

“It's possible,” Urahara answered. “It requires study, training, and practice, though.”

 _Awww_.

“As does becoming an effective magical girl,” Homura said quietly.

Double _awww_.

When they looked at Homura, she added, “Access to your powers means little if you do not use them effectively. I read books about battle tactics. I studied weapons. I watched martial arts tournaments obsessively in the beginning. Even choreographed fight scenes in fiction can give me ideas. I take notes. I have begun files on Witches, looking for patterns.”

“You do?” Mami asked with happy surprise.

“Of course,” Homura said, face expressionless.

“So do I,” Mami said with a wan smile.

“Aaanywaaay,” Urahara drawled loudly to get their attention, “What you need to worry about most, Miss Miki, is that your inborn power can attract spirits.”

Completely derailed, Sayaka blankly said, “Spirits?”

“Ghosts?” Madoka asked.

“Yes,” Urahara said with a decisive nod. “Spirits are often attracted to those with enough spiritual perception to see them or hear them. Many are simple annoyances, but there are dangerous ones. Predatory ones that eat souls to absorb their power.”

“You mean-- Witches?” Madoka asked timidly.

“No. I mean Hollows. It can be a bit complex, so I will have to explain in more detail another time, but they are assorted monsters that have bone masks on their faces and holes in their chests.” The shopkeeper stared at each girl in turn, weighing them. “Miss Akemi would not have allowed you to come here if she didn't trust you to some extent,” he said slowly.

They all looked to Homura, who lightly closed her eyes and pushed her hair back over her shoulder in a smooth motion probably intended to take up time. She did not object to the shopkeeper's words. Sayaka glanced at Mami, who was visibly surprised, and wondered what had happened between them. Sayaka hoped they were moving toward alliance; that would imply Mami was starting to take things well. That would be a relief.

Urahara eyed Mami. “Miss Tomoe. Are you capable of keeping our confidence even if the Incubator asks you about us?”

Sayaka and the other girls froze. They looked to Mami, who didn't know.

“ _Mister Urahara_ ,” Homura hissed in outrage. The _what the hell do you think you're doing?!_ was implied.

Mami frowned in confusion. “What? Incubator?”

Urahara leveled an unrepentant stare at Homura, then turned to Mami. “You would know it as Kyubey.”

“...What?”

Homura sighed and rubbed her eyes with one hand. “In- _kyu-bey_ -tor.”

There was a long silence as Mami knit her brows and looked at each of them in turn, then settled on Homura. “Is this one of the things...?”

“Yes,” Homura murmured. “There is much more, and much worse, but this is its most minor deception.”

“Wouldn't that just make 'Kyubey' a nickname, though?” Mami asked.

“Nicknames are often used to disguise one's true name,” Urahara said. “The motive for doing so can be innocent or deceptive. We have evidence of the latter.”

“What kind of evidence?”

Urahara turned to Homura and raised one brow. Homura sighed deeply. “It is complicated and distressing. I would still rather wait to explain.”

Mami shifted uncomfortably, but searched Homura's face with narrowed eyes. “Do you really believe I would react that poorly?”

“Yes,” Homura answered without hesitation. “In my experience, kind and honorable girls like you take this news the hardest. I want you to figure out some small things yourself to reduce the shock and denial.”

For some reason, Mami turned her head to look at Hitsugaya. He met her gaze with an emotionless, heavy-lidded stare and shrugged slightly.

“Anyway,” Urahara said mildly. “I would prefer that you do not tell the Incubator how much spiritual knowledge I have. Ah, my nephew and business partner, too. Speak in generalities; ghosts, negative energy, cursed spirits. Do not mention the word Hollow.” He paused and his gray eyes drilled into each of them in turn. “Since you have power and Miss Akemi trusts you, I'm going to make you some protective charms. Something more complex than I generally sell in the store-- subtly tailored to each of you now that I've gotten an idea of what your power feels like. It could take a couple days to make the charms, so in the meantime--” he switched from serious to ridiculous in an instant, grinning wildly as he threw his arms wide-- “each of you can choose one item from the shop to have for free! A grand opening present for friends of a friend!”

Sayaka couldn't help but go with his cheer. Besides: free stuff, helloooo? She pumped a fist and crowed, “Score!”

Madoka and Mami started making polite refusals, so Sayaka dropped her bag and grabbed each of them by their free hands and yanked. “Come on! You heard Magic Man! It's a present!”

Mami ended up wandering over to the bins of tea and carefully reading the descriptions on each. Madoka stuck with Sayaka as they curiously poked around at everything. They wound their way to a section of more commercial, mass-produced trinkets.

Sayaka's face lit up. “ _Cazh Soul_ stuff! Look, Madoka! Those limited edition cell phone straps!”

Madoka shuffled over to her and _oohed_. Homura approached them warily and asked, “Cazh Soul?”

“Whaaaat?!” Sayaka cried. Had she been living under a rock?! “You don't know about the _Casual Soul Realm Assault Trip_ show with Don Kanonji?!”

“It's so fun!” Madoka cheered. The two friends looked at each other, raised their arms and crossed them as though in coffins, and playfully cackled, “BOHAHAHAHA!”

Stranger Danger looked disturbed.

“I dunno if it's real, but Don Kanonji is cool,” Sayaka said. “He's really funny and totally heroic.”

Urahara slid up behind them. “ _Cazh Soul_ is real. Don Kanonji started out as an ill-informed novice with excellent showmanship, but has improved greatly in the last several years. Television cameras just can't pick up the spirits. I talk to him from time to time to see if he's having any trouble and give him supplies for difficult cases.”

Sayaka whirled to Urahara, stars in her eyes. “You know Don Kanonji?!”

“Indeed, I do,” Urahara chirped. “He is a good man. Very conscious that some children see him as a kind of superhero. He tries to be worthy of that.”

Hands pressed to her cheeks, Sayaka squealed, “Awesome!”

Homura still looked wary. Madoka noticed and perked up. “One of these nights, you should come to my house so we can have a sleepover with a mar--”

“Marathon! Yes!” Sayaka cheered.

Face dubious, Homura said, “I... suppose.”

Madoka and Sayaka high-fived and crowed, “ _Spirits are always with you!_ ”

Urahara laughed lightly and Homura looked weirded-out.

Knowing Homura had personal business of some kind with Urahara and Hitsugaya, they didn't stay much longer. Sayaka and Madoka put their matching Don Kanonji cell phone straps on their phones and took places on either side of Mami as she left with a bundle of some kind of tea. They walked to the train station with the older girl, who seemed to become more sure of herself and cheery the longer they chattered.

Sayaka met Madoka's eyes when Mami was leaning forward to stifle giggles. Their eyes shone with purpose. By silent mutual agreement, Mami was officially their second project.

§ x § x §

The Incubator watched the girls leave the shop from a nook on the ceiling of a building a block away, then turned back to the shop.

It was wary. The shop contained at least three bright, strong souls apparently allied with Homura Akemi, though it only knew such from the residents' forays off the lot. If there were other souls within, it could not say. The property was warded to the teeth with possibly the most efficient human use of magic it had ever encountered. Innumerable barriers were intertwined in a fine lattice, anchored by stone lanterns that looked like normal garden decor in a wide circle that touched the edges of the lot, with additional lantern anchors in the corners. All lanterns probably disguised something crucial-- likely a power source and ward programming. Their positions indicated the already-formidable cubic wards formed at the corners of the lot likely disguised a dome or sphere of wards within.

The layers of woven wards shifted at what appeared to be random intervals and at such a rate that it was difficult to latch onto and scrutinize any single one for more than a moment. There were many shields and diffusers to disguise any magic or soul within the boundaries, multiple trip-wires for unknown purposes, alarms, deterrents that would make various types of spirits and Hollows deeply uncomfortable or even repel them altogether, a handful of different potential bindings or traps, and several duplicates of everything cast with different underlying magic with whispers of the different souls the Incubator had sensed when they were outside. Plus spells that were disturbingly unfamiliar. There were also threads of something Hollow-like, which  _should_ have clashed with the Hollow-repellent wards and caused cascading failure but defied logic to dovetail with them. Everything shifted in disorienting but artful chaos. It felt like there was greater magic beneath it. Perhaps an active attack system? No way to know. The Incubator was unsure if it should even try to breach the wards. It could usually pick its way through or outright overpower human-wrought wards without being detected, but the sheer scale of the protections gave it pause.

Taking out the stone lantern anchors could probably destroy a good number of wards, but the anchors were protected by their own shields and failure of the wards would be an alarm of its own. The cubic wards would have to come down first. Wards with corners were much easier to break than spherical ones. However, they were tied to the spherical wards at the cardinal points of the inner wards' circle in such a way that there would probably be dire consequences for breach-- there were blatant trigger mechanisms between the two schema. It could target the cardinal point overlaps to attack both sets at once, but that wouldn't destroy either set of wards-- the cubic ones would still be anchored at corners and the circular edge of the spherical ones had extra anchors at forty-five degree angles from the cardinal points, well within the boundaries of the cubic wards. Even if the cardinal points the Incubator could access were destroyed, the sheltered midpoints would simply shift the axis of the wards forty-five degrees instead of crashing them altogether-- while also screaming of breach. And there was a whisper of a trigger mechanism for something that felt like a lock waiting for a key to turn it-- to rotate the spherical ward. What  _that_ would trigger was a mystery. Every potentially exploitable weakness was re-purposed into something useful, turning disadvantages into advantages.

Masterful. Beautiful, even.

This was no novice. Whoever had designed the wards was brilliant, powerful, and in possession of extensive spiritual knowledge. The Incubator felt a rare grudging respect for whichever human-- or humans-- had designed and implemented the magical masterpiece. It was disturbing that whoever crafted it was allied with Akemi. It now seemed more likely that the girl knew far more about magic and spirits than most magical girls in the last two centuries. She might even know more than the weak, marginalized Quincy girls the Incubators had contracted in years gone by.

This merited closer scrutiny rather than overt or covert action. It was _always_ best to conserve energy and remain unnoticed by the spiritually aware, after all.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Reminder that I interpret the Incubators as lacking empathy, not all emotion.
> 
> I need to draw Madoka and Sayaka doing the Cazh Soul pose all }:D and Homura side-eyeing them, leaning away and looking disturbed. I need that image in my life.


	55. VIERUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Your reviews thrill me on multiple levels. Have a present. *noms popcorn*

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**VIERUND FÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

The occupants of the shop waited until their sense of the other three girls' souls moved rapidly south, indicating they had boarded the train. Then Homura abruptly turned to Urahara and exploded. “ _What_ do you think you are _doing?!”_

Urahara cheerfully made a V-for-victory sign with one hand while the other indicated the shop with a wide arc of his fan. “I thought it was a good time to franchise!”

Homura snarled in rage at his flippancy. “You will give us all away!”

“No, I won't,” Urahara said with an infuriatingly relaxed wave of his fan. “The three of us and some friends warded the hell out of this place and we're wearing special gigai that disguise our reiatsu so we don't feel like shinigami.”

Homura ground her teeth and glared at him. Hitsugaya sighed. After glancing at him and deciding this was what he meant by not interfering, she turned back to Urahara and snapped, “What makes you think you can just appear here and tell Mami about the Incubator?! And _all_ of them about Hollows?!”

“It's a test,” Urahara said mildly, unfazed by her outrage. “By giving Miss Tomoe some tempting bits of truly superficial information, we may be able to gauge her willingness to keep her mouth shut. Same with the other girls. Will they wait for us to tell them, or will they seek the Incubator? It could tell us a lot.”

Homura did not let her glare subside. “Did you fail to inform me of this plan so you could avoid any objections?” The prospect appalled her. In a way, Mitakihara was _her_ territory more than any other's-- even Mami. Control of it was vital. Yet another massive change-- especially one she _should_ have had some say in-- set her teeth on edge, made her scalp tingle with magic that hummed and spun through her with ever-condensing fury.

Urahara fluttered his fan in front of his mouth. “Oh, so suspicious!”

“That is _not_ an answer.”

The shopkeeper lowered his fan and grinned. “So observant.”

Homura glared harder. She almost never got truly physical, but she felt a burning desire to _punch that toothy smile off his face_.

“Partly, I suppose,” said Urahara. “But also because I _did_ want you to be surprised and angry out where the Incubator could see you. That's why I sent Tōshirō--”

“Hitsugaya,” the shinigami said dully.

“--to surprise you on your doorstep. It muddies the waters whether we colluded on our arrival.”

“Thanks for warning me,” Hitsugaya muttered sarcastically.

Homura crossed her arms and looked skeptical. “And you came here _why?_ ”

“Well, _you_ wouldn't come to _me_ ,” Urahara said innocently, “and there is research I can't do remotely. Especially that barrier over Asunaro.” He tapped his folded fan in his empty hand and smirked. “Besides, you have more access to me-- us-- this way. You can _learn things_.”

She shifted and grudgingly downgraded to a scowl. “What kind of things?”

He dipped his head until his eyes were gleaming from the shadow of the brim of his hat, smirk widening with mischief. “Oh-hohhhhh, _many_ things.”

Homura reengaged her death glare. “You are infuriating.”

“Thank you!” he chirped.

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes at the man and looked at Homura. “You can practice healing and fighting, learn some kidō, and so on. We have a concealed training area and a way to get Inoue here without anyone outside noticing. Urahara--”

“Uncle Kisuke!” the shopkeeper sang obnoxiously.

The captain favored him with a disdainful sneer then looked back to Homura. “He has some weird idea about citywide spiritual surveillance on the Incubator.”

Homura doubtfully looked at Urahara, who giggled and coyly said, “It's a surprise!”

Hitsugaya joined Homura in glaring at the shopkeeper. Homura was becoming more convinced that she would get along with the shinigami who was as no-nonsense as she was.

“Anyway,” Urahara said in one of his probably habitual pivots, “I looked up that Sōju girl you told me about, Miss Akemi.”

After a sigh, Homura arched a brow and said, “And?”

He rummaged in his pocket, tapped on a phone, and showed her the screen. “Is this her?”

Sure enough, a school portrait of the girl she had met stared out from the screen. “Yes.”

Urahara withdrew the phone. “Ayase Sōju is from Rumoi, up in Hokkaido. She has been missing for five months, ever since her twin sister Luca's body was found burned so badly it could only be identified by dental records. There doesn't seem to be anything remarkable about either of them aside from no one being able to figure out how Luca ended up as she did.” Urahara frowned. “There have been a few reported sightings of Ayase, first in Hokkaido and then moving south. We haven't had much time to dig deeper, but now that we've moved I'm having Tessai research the places where she was allegedly sighted. See what kind of news happened around the same time in the areas she was allegedly in.”

Homura chewed her lip thoughtfully and tapped her foot for a few moments. “I wonder if her sister was also a magical girl.”

Urahara shrugged. “The only way we'll know is to ask her. Has she shown up again?”

“No,” Homura answered. She scowled at her feet. “I am... suspicious.”

“Well, I've given Tōshirō--”

“Hitsugaya,” the shinigami corrected. Again.

“--and Tessai pictures of her so they can also be on the lookout for her. Be careful.”

Homura sighed. She didn't know what she had expected from the research, but it was disappointing nonetheless.

After a moment of pensive silence, Tessai spoke up. “Please stay for dinner. We can speak about the basics of wards while we eat, then you can tour the facilities.”

Homura was still angry enough that she didn't particularly want to stay in Urahara's presence, but the prospect of knowledge was an acceptable trade-off.

§ x § x §

Homura was down in the truly impressive underground training room for a couple hours that evening, taking it all in. It was huge. Tessai called it a pocket dimension, which she could believe-- the sensation was similar enough to labyrinths to register as déjà vu. Afterward, she transformed and went on patrol. She haunted the area around the television station where the Box Witch usually showed up on this date, but it never appeared. No thralls attempting suicide, no labyrinth, no Familiars, nothing.

Disturbing.

When she got home and released her transformation, her phone trilled with message notifications. She ignored the ones from an unknown number in favor of Madoka and Sayaka's messages. Reading those prompted her to look at the other messages.

_hi this is Nagisa from the other day_

_sorry if im bothering you_

_i don't know lots of people here and i'm lonely_

_sorry if this is weird but can you come to mommy's funeral? its on thursday_

_you dont have to it would just feel nice._

_its a dumb way to make friends but I dont know who else to ask_

_sorry_

Madoka and Sayaka had messaged her that they planned to go. Homura chewed her lip. She didn't particularly like funerals. Did anyone? She hadn't even known the woman. Had only met the girl once. And yet...

There hadn't been anyone with her at her parents' funeral when she was around the same age as Nagisa. Her uncle didn't count. He acted like she wasn't there and attending was a chore. So it had been Homura alone in her black dress with white collar and lace trim-- that dress was seared into her memory, every uncomfortable fold and button of it, even though she had only worn it once and thrown it away the day after-- and two caskets concealing the charred remains of her mother and father. She was still angry at the little girl-- _cheesecake_ , of all things!-- but still....

Homura sighed and tapped out a response.

_I will try to be there._

She hoped she didn't regret it.

After she had done her homework on autopilot, her phone trilled again. She thought it would be Momoe, but was surprised to see a message from Karin.

_Tōsh texted me and said Ura-asshat pissed you off being his sneakyass self. Wanna bitch about it?_

The mental pressure to speak welled up in Homura's throat until she nearly choked on it. She tilted the phone toward Yoruichi, who glanced at the screen and dropped from her shelf. Homura was confused by how satisfied Yoruichi was with the situation, but “angrily” tossed the cat and some ruined leftover fish out the door so she'd have a sentry without asking about the attitude.

Snarling all her frustration and anger at the sisters was a relief. Pressure she hadn't realized was building in her mind found a release as Karin agreed with everything she said and creatively insulted Urahara between stories about how he had annoyed her or her brother, while Yuzu gently soothed. Then Homura moved on to the _goddamn cheesecake wish_ and reveled in the twins' outrage at it and the Incubator, then heard out their speculation about why Momoe would see cheesecake as _so damn important_. Homura was still grumpy but much calmer by the end of the conversation.

She could get used to this.

She was _afraid_ to get used to this.

§ x § x §

Wednesday dawned bright and sunny, a lovely day with fluffy white clouds decorating the blue sky. Madoka hummed her entire walk to school, feeling much better about the disturbing things happening now that it was looking like a team effort was pulling together. Tōshirō-- no, Hitsugaya! be polite!-- and Mami were waiting for her on the path with Homura, Sayaka, and Hitomi. Mami looked shy and Hitsugaya looked irritated. Hitomi was stifling giggles and trying not to choke on a sucker and Sayaka was smug, white sticks for two different suckers poking out the corners of her mouth. Madoka greeted them and Homura solemnly gave her a sucker of her own.

“Did you finish yours already, Hitsugaya?” she asked as she unwrapped hers.

Before he could say anything, Sayaka made a little _heh_ and spoke around her candy, cheeks puffed out around the suckers. “'Sugaya's a'tickinna mud. Don'tlk _candy_. N'yu _b'l'v_ 'it? Ahhhhwll, mo'f' me!”

Hitsugaya looked like the way Sayaka spoke physically pained him.

School was... school. Unremarkable. The two upperclassmen joined them all on the roof for lunch. They couldn't talk about magic because Hitomi was there, but it was a pleasant enough affair. Hitsugaya didn't talk much, but neither did Homura. Mami and Hitomi seemed to click a bit. Madoka thought they were all getting along well enough despite it still being a bit awkward. She hoped it continued.

They all went to their usual café after school. Yoruichi wound through everyone's legs and seemed drawn to Hitsugaya, who became increasingly annoyed by her repeated ankle-rubs. Sayaka teased him for being boring when he said he got tea and a croissant because the rest of the pastries were too sugary. Hitomi ran off for one of her lessons after her usual twenty minutes. They all sat awkwardly for a couple minutes until they silently agreed to not talk about magic and instead did homework. Homura and Hitsugaya helped everyone else, both toeing the line between seriously focused and bored. A couple hours later, Homura and Hitsugaya excused themselves for personal business at the shop.

Sayaka stood and stretched as they walked away, then eagerly turned to Madoka and Mami. “I wanna get a new CD for Kyōsuke. Wanna come with to the mall?”

“Sure!” Madoka chirped, grabbing her bag and standing up.

Mami smiled. “Have fun.”

Madoka and Sayaka drew up short. Sayaka disappointedly said, “You're not coming?”

The blonde started in surprise and pointed at herself. “I'm... invited?”

“Of course!” Madoka cried cheerfully. She dropped her bag and stepped forward to take both of Mami's hands in her own and smiled. “We're friends, aren't we?”

Mami's hopeful disbelief broke Madoka's heart a little.

Their mall adventure was the most carefree Madoka had felt in weeks. They stayed out far later than intended, texted their parents to say they would eat dinner at a friend's house, and meandered toward Mami's apartment after dark. Sayaka impulsively detoured them into a park, dropped her things, and ran ahead of them to a merry-go-round. She waved her friends over, but instead of waiting for them, she grabbed a handle, ran to get it spinning, then jumped on by herself.

Madoka and Mami stopped in their tracks, though. Madoka's skin was crawling and she felt unsafe. Mami held up her left hand and frowned at it. A chill went down Madoka's spine when she saw the Soul Gem's amber glow. She screamed, “Sayaka! There's a--!”

A round blob like a glowing window into an aquarium full of faintly rising bubbles appeared in the air behind Sayaka. It contorted and expanded, shaped as though spawning large bubbles at its edges until it resembled a child's outline of a cloud. A line of nearly-skeletal horse marionettes within galloped down across it at an angle as it emitted garble **d** speech. Creepy wooden m **a** rionettes with cardboard wi **n** gs bubbled out of **i** t and scurried over the merr **y** -go-round faster than Sa **y** aka could scramble away. Th **e** y swarmed her, pu **l** led her limbs, and she seemed to break apart and bubble out of existence as she screamed. The entire scene shimmered once and was replaced by a warping of the air like a heat haze.

Mami transformed and landed where Sayaka had been a split second later and touched the gem on her hat. A shimmering teal sigil snapped into existence on the far side of the merry-go-round, boxlike and containing the outlines of two angels. Mami glanced over her shoulder and ordered Madoka to call Homura for help, then jumped into the labyrinth herself.

Shaking in terror, Madoka dropped her things and fumbled for her phone. She got it steady, dialed....

No answer.

She tried again and again, sobbing. No answer. Madoka left a couple semi-coherent voicemails and dropped her phone from numb hands. She stared at the sigil. Fear flooded her body. She didn't know what to do. What if Sayaka was hurt? Could Mami help her and fight at the same time?

Could she help?

It was probably really stupid, but Madoka wiped her tears on her sleeve and charged into the labyrinth.

§ x § x §

Red eyes watched from the underbrush at the edge of the park.

§ x § x §

Mami suddenly found herself floating underwater among rising bubbles and falling snow. The first thing she noticed was the heavy _presence_ of a Witch; this was no Familiar's labyrinth. Craning her head bac **k** , she saw a CRT computer mon **i** tor with some kind of flippe **r** s being **s** pun by **t** wo ang **e** l mario **n** ettes far above her. _If_ that was “up;” up and down were difficult to distinguish.

A Witch that wasn't hiding could be a dangerous one. Potentially one with traps or tricks. Analyzing everything could make a difference between life and death even more than usual.

She was buoyant as though underwater, but could breathe. Her guns manifested around her, pointing in all directions as a precaution while she took in her surroundings. She was in the vertical and horizontal center of a column of many levels of rotating carousels with film reel trim, crude woodcut and pixellated, faded CMYK horses bobbing along on their poles. Many of them had television screens displaying test patterns embedded in their sides. Woodcuts of angel marionettes clung to and crawled over them. A faint melody echoed through the labyrinth, a dainty and cheerful orchestral piece that was like subdued carousel music slightly out of tune. There didn't appear to be anywhere to _go_ ; it was all a single chamber. Mami did not like that. It _looked_ simple, but probably wasn't.

A scream made her look down. Below her, four **j** aunty marionettes had Sayaka by **e** ach of her limbs-- _pulli_ _ **n**_ _g_ each of her limbs. The girl looked blurred at the edges and cartoo **n** ish, the Familiars stretch **i** ng her like taf **f** y. One of the ones that h **e** ld an arm had also g **r** abbed one of her cheeks and was stretching her face.

Mami scowled and made her rifles rotate to point downward with a thought. She blasted each marionette to pieces as she dove. Sayaka's limbs rebounded like a released rubber band and she snapped back into focus, losing the cartoonish appearance as Mami reached her and held her in her arms. Sayaka clung to her in terror. Upside-down-- perhaps?-- Mami allowed them to sink while she scanned the labyrinth and debated retreating or fighting.

Then Madoka popped into existence where Mami herself had originally entered, floating in a pose that suggested she had entered at a run. The Familiars at the top of the cylinder dropped the Witch, which spun as it drifted down toward Madoka.

Anger at the girl's risky move flashed through Mami briefly before she buried it in pragmatism. She shoved Sayaka away, conjured a ribbon to tie to Sayaka's ankle so she could keep hold of her, made a platform of her floral kaleidoscope barrier beneath her feet, and launched herself upward. Ivory muskets manifested around her in a spiral, constantly shooting at the angel Familiars that had bubbled up from behind the carousel horses and moved to intercept her. When she neared Madoka, she conjured a large musketoon and fired it straight up at the Witch. The blast connected with it with a crunch of crackling glass and sent it rocketing upward, trailing test-pattern colored blood in its wake.

The feel of the labyrinth changed. The atmosphere was heavy with rage. More, larger angel marionettes clambered out of the carousels and attacked her. She wrapped a ribbon around Madoka's middle and used it to propel her all the way down to where Sayaka was, ignoring the girl's shriek. Mami's floral ribbon shield cocooned the two girls just as all the screens embedded in the carousel horses flashed and changed channels from test patterns to images. Mami fought the first wave of Familiars efficiently, but froze when she caught a glimpse of the screens.

She knew those scenes.

Having fun with her parents. Lying in the wreck of their car, gravely injured. Her parents' bloodied corpses. The funeral. Good times with Kyōko. Feuding with Kyōko. And _that_ Witch. The one she had lost to so badly when she first contracted, before she knew how to craft **g** uns with her mag **i** c. Ribbon **s** alon e had just not been **e** nough against the massive construct of grainy b **l** ack smog and tarnished motorcycle p **a** rts. And everywhere, in so many screens, the screaming face of the grieving mother whose child Mami had been unable to save from _that_ Witch.

Her greatest failure. The event that had shaken her to her core and inspired endless effort to learn more, get better, save everyone-- to be the perfect magical girl.

Mami was slow to react to the next wave of Familiars that swarmed her. Her fight turned into a close-quarters frenzy as she lashed out with ribbons, shot the disturbingly smiling heads off the marionettes with ivory pistols, and used rifles as staves. She was regaining her rhythm when the next wave of Familiars descended on her. This time, they all had television screens for heads, each playing her worst memories on an endless loop. She couldn't look anywhere without seeing her parents' corpses, _that_ Witch, or that shrieking mother clutching her hands to her head as though to hold her skull together. Mami fought desperately as she uttered a guttural scream and tears streamed down her cheeks. She threw an arm up, fashioned a huge ribbon, and made it spiral down around herself before making it burst outward and send the Familiars crashing into the carousels. Screaming mindlessly, she conjured innumerable rifles around her and fired an endless onslaught in all directions. Madoka and Sayaka's screams from below as her shots impacted their shield only dimly registered to her. She barely noticed Homura Akemi pop into existence nearby until the girl's body was immediately riddled in her bullets and slammed into the carousel along with the Familiars with a loud crack.

Floating in the middle of the newly-cleared column, Mami held her hands to her head and tried to gather her wits. She heard Homura roar, “ _Tomoe!_ ”

Mami turned to look at Homura and noticed just how angry and bloodied she was. How many bullet holes in her body were shimmering violet as they healed. How many of them were near vital organs. How Homura's back was engulfed in fluid violet flame as she jerkily forced herself upright on uncoordinated, faltering legs by dragging herself upright on a horse. Realized the crack she had heard must have been Homura's spine instead of a carousel pole and that the amount of magic consumed by healing so quickly would be extreme. Realized that it was her fault. She was always hurting people. She was a terrible magical girl.

“I'm so sorry!” Mami wailed at Homura.

Homura's angry expression twisted into pity as chiming laughter rang out above them. Mami looked up and saw the computer monitor Witch descending again.

“Get down by Madoka and Sayaka!” Homura ordered fiercely as she steadied herself and pulled some kind of rocket launcher out of her shield. “I'll get the Witch!”

Mami looked at her and hesitated. Homura's face looked irritated, but suddenly her eyes went wide and her face paled as she looked past Mami.

“ _Behind you!_ ” she shrieked.

Conjuring a gun automatically, Mami glanced over her shoulder and prepared to defend.

White and purple frills-- so _close!_ \-- a reaching hand, silver light trailing from fingers like smo--

§ x § x §

Face contorted in horror, Homura leveled the RPG launcher at the magical girl who had leapt out from a hiding spot in the carousel and grabbed Mami's Soul Gem with glowing fingers. Whatever magic Ayase Sōju was using must have severed Mami's link to her body regardless of distance, as the blonde's eyes immediately went dull, her flower-shaped gem turned back into an egg, and her battle costume evaporated. Homura fired the RPG as Mami's slack body drifted downward, Madoka and Sayaka's distant screams ringing in her ears.

The white-clad magical girl smirked and thrust a sword forward as she held Mami's Soul Gem up like a trophy. She pointed the weapon at Homura and shouted, “ _Avviso dell'Ustione!_ ” A gout of flames gushed out and met the projectile in midair. Both looked away from the mutual detonation to save their vision. Before the smoke could even clear, Sōju yelled, “ _Prodotto Secondario!_ ” Huge balls of flame shot out of the smoke in a spiral and crashed into the nearest level of carousels.

Homura grit her teeth and scanned for the girl as she forced her spine to heal faster, quickly finding Sōju's form among raging flames. Her skirts billowed in the heat, untouched by the fire quickly spreading to other levels of the carousel. She was still holding Mami's Soul Gem up in a taunt.

“Ohhh, did I make you _angry?_ ” Sōju cooed. “Was she your _friend?_ ”

Snarling, Homura froze time, leapt to the girl's side, and seized Mami's Soul Gem. Touching the Gem created an indirect link with Sōju and her opponent was exempted from the timestop. Sōju tightened her grip and reacted violently, swinging her sword around to stab Homura in the throat. Homura jerked her head to one side and managed to avoid having her spinal cord severed, but blood fountained out from her slashed right jugular and carotid. Her vision whited out before she dropped the taxing timestop and forced her magic to seal the wounds. Homura could hear Madoka screaming in the distance as she let go of Mami's Soul Gem and reeled back. She flooded her body with magic and willed it to keep working; her vision wobbled back into focus just as Sōju's sword stabbed her dead center in the face. Sight gone again, Homura flared her magic more strongly and brought her shield up in a blind attempt to dislodge Sōju's grip on the sword in her face. She realized her mistake as Sōju triumphantly crowed, “ _Tocco del Male!_ ”

Wreathed in magic that Homura could not see but made her skin crawl, Sōju's hand grasped for the amethyst on the back of Homura's hand with a movement like a striking snake. Her cackling turned into a frustrated shriek as her fingers broke against the shield Homura had been training herself to hold around her Soul Gem.

Homura desperately sensed for where Mami's Soul Gem was and pinpointed the feel of her magic. Relative to Sōju's, the enemy probably still held it in her hand, though Homura couldn't figure out how she managed it. Up her sleeve? Homura probably couldn't use a bomb without also shattering Mami's Gem. Firing the RPG in the first place had been a stupid instinctual risk. She would have to stall to recover and kill her opponent more precisely. Homura kneed the girl in the gut, drew a sawed-off shotgun from her shield, jammed it into Sōju's ribcage one-handed, infused it with her magic, then pulled the trigger to send Sōju flying.

“ _Secondo Stagione!_ ” Sōju shrieked in rage as her voice trailed farther away.

Still blinded, Homura stopped time and pried the sword out of her head with a wet squelch. Panting and gasping, Homura struggled to ration her magic between timestop, Gem shield, head wound, and neck wound. It would have been much easier had she only sustained one such grievous wound, but two so soon after recovering from Mami making Swiss cheese out of her and snapping her spine took longer. She closed her eyes-- well, used the mental focus of doing so; the actual organs were probably wrecked somewhere in the gaping hole in her head-- and forced her breathing to calm. The major muscles that supported her head and everything related to her vision were her main priorities. Once her head was repaired enough to be functional, she wiped the blood and bits from her face with a sleeve and looked around while her magic shifted to secondary healing targets. The attack Sōju had called out had fired spiraling gouts of flame not just at her, but in every direction. That was in addition to the top two thirds of the carousel already engulfed in flames. Homura found that she was above everyone. Sōju was two levels down, frozen horizontally in the midst of swinging around a carousel horse pole she had caught herself on with one hand, Mami's Gem clutched to her mangled chest with the other hand so it was nestled beside her own Gem. Three levels below her, Mami's soulless body floated like a corpse in the ocean. A level below her--

Homura's blood chilled. The theft of Mami's Soul Gem had caused the shield protecting Madoka and Sayaka to collapse. Sayaka, the _idiot_ , had started swimming upward to intercept Mami's body, face determined and protective despite the Familiars and fire closing in on her. Three levels below her, the Familiars were trying to shove Madoka into the forgotten Witch's cracked, test-pattern-bleeding computer screen as her face contorted in terrified pain; it looked like one of her elbows had dislocated and one of her legs was broken. A faint nimbus of pink magic hovered over her skin-- a defensive reaction Homura had rarely seen Madoka engage without being contracted.

A vivid memory of the early timeline in which the Familiars managed to actually tear off some of Madoka's limbs and offer them to the Witch while Madoka watched, shrieking and bleeding everywhere, alive because the Soul Gem at her throat was intact, overtook Homura's mind for a minute. After a struggle, she forced her mind to consider her options.

The flaming projectiles and burning carousel-walls would make navigating the labyrinth with time stopped difficult, but not impossible if she was willing to be burned. Which she absolutely was. But even with her time freeze, she couldn't be in four places at once. Order was vital. She decided to plan from top to bottom.

Reclaiming Mami's Soul Gem would probably require more fighting because the monster's Soul Gem was so close to Mami's that the amber egg could sustain collateral damage from attacks on the spinel beside it. Well, that just meant she would have to stall Sōju while she dealt with the others. Homura backed off as she pulled a handgun from her shield. She automatically fired from the distance she knew the bullets would travel before freezing just short of Sōju's crazed face, emptying all fifteen rounds from the gun before tossing it away. A shotgun was the next item out of her stockpile; she fired it at Sōju's midsection, carefully aiming to create a difficult-to-heal spinal injury to add to the gaping wound she had already caused. Then she flickered to Sōju's side and emptied another fifteen 9mm rounds into her from neck to knees, making sure to aim for the cervical vertebrae and joints.

Sōju was a powerful enough magical girl to be able to recover from the catastrophic injuries that would result, but it wouldn't be fast. She couldn't pause reality while her magic repaired her body like Homura could. It should buy Homura precious time. If she was lucky, Sōju would also drop Mami's Soul Gem. A bullet to the cervical vertebrae _should_ paralyze her and make her hand relax before she could counter the injury with her magic, but Homura didn't want to count on anything when she didn't know how the mess below would turn out.

Homura assessed her remaining tasks. Mami's empty body was her lowest priority. Now that she had allies with healing capabilities and it was detached from Mami's soul, most damage it would sustain could be repaired after the fact while also not causing her pain. Besides, if worse came to worst, Urahara had mentioned that a Soul Gem could occupy one of his fake bodies.

So, Sayaka. Whom Homura dearly wanted to grab by the shoulders and shake. _Violently_. Even though some part of her realized that one less person in the mob below was probably a good thing; it was the principle of the matter. She could freeze time and move the girl, but with the fire rapidly descending the column of carousels there wasn't anywhere safe to leave her-- and she apparently couldn't be trusted to stay in one place even if Homura did shove her off to the side. Encasing her in a barrier was chancy with her magic in its current straining state. Homura decided to leave Sayaka where she was but clear as many of the threats to her as she could. If Sayaka was focused on recovering Mami's body, that could keep her occupied. Homura swam from fireball to fireball, touching each with her shield, flaring her magic and gritting her teeth through the heat. Then she took aim at Familiars with a machine gun. When she resumed time, they would be blown away.

Now, most importantly: Madoka.

Even if she could grab her friend, the dense tangle of limbs and Familiars meant touching Madoka would indirectly unfreeze time for all the enemies, too. Homura was hesitant to do much to the Witch with Madoka so close. More than close-- one foot was inside the CRT monitor's screen. After careful analysis, Homura angled headshots at as many Familiars as she safely could without hitting Madoka, then found an opening for a shotgun round to hit the Witch in one of its corners. It wouldn't be enough to kill, but hopefully it would cause the Witch to recoil and let go of Madoka. Then the fighting could begin in earnest.

Homura took a deep breath and let time resume.

The labyrinth echoed with the sound of bullets hitting their targets and ricocheting off carousels. Many of the Familiars attacking Madoka were blown back like bowling pins as bullets knocked their heads from their bodies. Her carefully-angled shot at the Witch startled it into releasing Madoka and launched it spinning across the labyrinth and into a horse. Marionettes bubbled around it and carried it up toward the nebulous ceiling once more. Madoka was screaming in pain and fear; her cries became more urgent as the angry Familiars that remained pulled on her more insistently and one of her shoulders dislocated with a pop. Pink magic flared around her and knocked back marionettes as Homura rammed a Desert Eagle handgun into that particular Familiar's chest and fired. It rapidly turned into a brawl of grasping hands and close-range weapons, made awkward when a panicked Madoka lunged and latched onto Homura's leg with her good arm. Endless waves of Familiars mobbed the two of them as Homura fought. But with Madoka safely plastered to her leg, Homura was able to pull a machine gun and start spraying bullets into the horde without worrying about hitting her.

A sharp, abbreviated scream made her glance up. Homura realized she had been careless-- some of her bullets must have reached Sayaka, as thin streams of blood trailed away in the not-water of the labyrinth. She had reached and caught Mami's body, though. Mami's body was trailing blood as well. Damn.

And then Sōju was looming over Sayaka.

 _Impossible_ , Homura thought. _She shouldn't have been able to heal that fast. Even Sayaka would have trouble healing that fast with her contract. Did I really lose that much time in the mêlée?_

Homura saw that much of the enemy magical girl's white dress had been dyed pink and red with blood. Her face was spattered with gore and deranged. She was missing much of her midsection and neck, but her spine had repaired in both places; bare bone showed where her scalp hadn't regenerated to cover the reassembly of brain and skull; her joints had recovered enough to function, but she was swaying drunkenly so the job must not be done. It seemed she was forcing her magic to perform some manner of puppetry to make up for missing and damaged muscles, as bands of white magic glowed in those empty spaces. That was a costly technique, as Homura well knew.

Sōju glared at Homura and roared, “ _WE'LL FIND YOU AGAIN, BITCH! THIS ISN'T OVER!_ ” With that, she slammed a palm against Sayaka's forehead and retreated.

Homura was baffled by the action at first, but then Sayaka dropped Mami's body and grabbed her head. Black magic snapped and sizzled around her head, then spread as she writhed and howled tortured screams. After a blast of power, Sayaka began to _change_.

It was Witch magic. How? _How?_

The crackling blackness raced along Sayaka's limbs as they warped. Her hands enlarged into webbed claws. Scales grew from her skin and gave her an inky blue and rainbow sheen like an oil slick on an ocean. Her legs fused into a tail and her hair suddenly grew out and turned into tattered ribbons of navy and fuchsia. The distinctive knight's helm that usually formed the Mermaid Witch's head manifested on Sayaka's brow, but stopped just short of her screaming mouth. A similar knight's visor manifested over her pelvis and sprouted more tattered ribbons like a skirt. When her transformation was complete, she was a creature halfway between Sayaka Miki and the Mermaid Witch Homura knew from countless timelines.

Homura stared dumbly, having never seen anything of the like. _How could Sayaka turn into a Witch without contracting first?! What did Sōju DO to her?!_

_What am I supposed to do?!_

Her default reaction kicked in and she froze time to think.

Madoka was badly injured and vulnerable. Mami's body would be an acceptable loss. The

Box Witch was still lurking somewhere in the burning labyrinth. And then Sayaka. Homura could leave Madoka if she conjured her barrier and maintained the timestop to fight the two Witches. She looked down at her Soul Gem and debated her endurance. She wasn't fully healed herself, her magic still knitting parts of skull, meninges, facial nerves, and the intricate lattice of muscles and blood vessels in her neck; part of her magic was repurposed to act as blood due to the extreme exsanguination from the neck injury to keep her brain working, while yet more magic shuffled resources to create new blood. Sōju had departed, so the risk to her Soul Gem was lessened; however, Homura didn't feel it wise to drop her barrier from around the amethyst on her hand. That was another magic sink-- she needed more practice crafting and holding it efficiently. Her Gem was rapidly dimming and she had exhausted her spare Grief Seed on Nagisa Momoe. Homura's vision swam again. Magically speaking, she was doing too many things at once. She debated a tactical retreat, but didn't know what might happen to Sayaka if she was stuck in the labyrinth. It would be painful to abandon Sayaka-- especially _this_ Sayaka, who she got along with so well for once-- but Madoka was always her first priority.

Taking a deep breath, she dropped the timestop, grabbed Madoka around the waist, and moved up toward the hidden exit. The mermaid creature rushed to attack her but was stopped by the sudden appearance of Tōshirō Hitsugaya. He startled, then kicked the twisted mermaid in the face with a glowing, ice-clad foot to send her reeling. He glanced around and locked on Homura. Throwing one hand out in invitation, he yelled, “Akemi!”

Homura let go of Madoka and froze time again. She moved up to him and grabbed his hand, exempting him from the timestop. They looked at one another for a moment. Homura realized he wasn't in his shinigami uniform, but his school uniform. Instead of his metal blade, he held a sword crafted of solid ice in one hand. He was maintaining his cover as a human with powers.

His face twisted. “What the hell happened to you?”

Right. She was covered in blood and gore. Right. “It's complicated.”

He huffed and set that aside. “Sitrep?”

Homura blinked and took longer than she liked to translate that into _situation report_. “The Witch is over there,” she said, pointing upward. “Tomoe's Soul Gem was stolen. Her body is over there.” She pointed down, then rubbed her eyes and pointed at the mermaid-creature. “That is Miki. Sōju did something to her. It is like she is halfway between her normal form and the form she takes as a Witch.”

Hitsugaya scrutinized the mermaid suspiciously. “Where is her body?”

“Her body transformed. I think.”

The shinigami's eyes cut to her. “You've never mentioned anything like that.”

“That would be because it has never happened-- that I know of,” Homura answered tiredly.

Frowning uncertainly at the creature that had been Sayaka, he muttered, “Well, that's disturbing.”

“Quite.”

He searched her face for a moment. Homura hated herself for wobbling with the strain of healing, Gem shield, and timestop. Hitsugaya scowled. “You're at your limit.”

“Yes,” she bit out resentfully.

“I can go after the Witches--”

“No. I need to do it.” Homura defiantly met his skeptical gaze. “Does that ice-sword work like your zanpakutō?”

“To an extent.”

Homura made a sour face. “Would it purify the Witch and send it on?”

Hitsugaya pursed his lips and looked down at his blade. “I can't be certain. It would work on a Hollow, though.” His tone was grudgingly resigned; he was quick-witted enough to understand the thrust of her question. “You want the Grief Seed.”

“ _Need_ it,” Homura corrected as she held up her left hand to show him how dark her Soul Gem was getting. Damn her swimming vision. And it felt like her body's movements were through thickening molasses, control becoming more difficult. This was _Bad_.

Grim-faced, Hitsugaya could only say, “That's worse than I expected.”

Homura sighed. She swayed again, even less steady; she hated admitting it, but she announced, “I cannot maintain the timestop much longer.”

Tilting his head in consideration, Hitsugaya said, “Let me hit them with some ice real quick. To make it easier on you when you drop it.”

With a firm nod, Homura agreed and curtly said, “Then your mission is to protect Madoka and retrieve Tomoe's body. If you are capable of using that yellow rope spell Mr. Tsukabishi demonstrated, apply it to my ankle so you can be exempted from my timestops.”

He raised a brow at her barking orders, but didn't argue. As his fingers sparked yellow light that snaked down to both their ankles, he lowly said, “Careful with the timestops. Don't push yourself beyond--”

“I am aware,” Homura snapped.

He stared into her eyes, weighing her, then turned away and leapt up to sling waves of ice at the Box Witch and incomplete Mermaid Witch. On his way down, he unleashed a dragon construct that spiraled down the sides of the labyrinth to hit Familiars and douse flames. He met her eyes and nodded as he descended past her, snatching Madoka around the waist as he went. Madoka was immediately exempted from the timestop and resumed her screaming. Homura propelled herself up to the Box Witch and pulled an RPG launcher from her shield. As time resumed, Hitsugaya's ice restrained it and she fired an RPG into the Witch's screen at point blank range. The ensuing explosion of shrapnel and test pattern-colored blood knocked Homura back and inflicted more lacerations on her front. As the labyrinth wobbled, Homura froze time briefly to approach the Mermaid Witch. The technique that was as natural as breathing these days made her gasp with effort. While fetching a weapon from her shield, she glanced down toward Hitsugaya. Satisfied that he had Madoka under one arm and Mami's body under his other with a shimmering barrier around them, Homura dropped the timestop with a double barreled shotgun leveled straight at the incomplete Mermaid Witch's visor as the creature shrieked and struggled against the ice holding it in place.

Homura hated it, but she had to put Sayaka out of her misery. Again. She pulled the trigger.

It was as though her shells only hit the Witch portion of the composite creature; the shape of the corrupt mermaid seemed to blow off behind Sayaka's body like a costume ghost sheet in a strong wind, leaving the human girl behind unharmed as it rapidly disintegrated. Homura forced herself to clumsily grab her friend's shoulders just before the labyrinth could collapse completely. She blacked out for a moment; when she snapped back, they were standing in the dark playground again. Her vision tunneled as she cast about and saw that Madoka was still alive at Hitsugaya's side. Screaming near her caught her attention, so she drunkenly turned back and noted Sayaka's face was wild and panicked, screaming; she thought she heard her name but was so very tired. Her hearing faded into a dull whine. The last thing she noticed before drifting off was the sight of Kisuke Urahara landing atop a nearby jungle gym as her gaze wandered beyond Sayaka's shoulder and toward the moon.

§ x § x §

The Incubator passively observed the fallout. Sōju's battered and bloody exit carrying Mami Tomoe's Soul Gem was an interesting indicator of the resistance she had encountered. It was impossible to be certain how much of the damage had been inflicted by which magical girl, though. Then the boy from the shop appeared and awkwardly squinted and grasped around and stabbed in the air for the entrance to the labyrinth until he got sucked in. He was capable of flash step and had ice-based powers. All the humans remaining in the labyrinth reappeared as it collapsed. The boy was the only one without injuries. Madoka Kaname was badly but not fatally injured and Mami Tomoe's empty body and Sayaka Miki had only minor injuries, but Homura Akemi's state was dire-- half-healed catastrophic injuries and a heavily tainted Soul Gem. The two men from the magic shop appeared, also capable of flash step. Sayaka Miki screamed and caught Homura Akemi as the magical girl lost consciousness on her feet, her costume dissolving in dim violet sparkles. The larger of the two men descended, pressed his fingers over Madoka Kaname's eyes, and rendered her unconscious with some manner of magic as the blond man solemnly retrieved the Grief Seed and Evil Nut from their resting places on the children's centrifugal force amusement device.

So Sōju had been desperate enough to use one of Hijiri's Evil Nuts. Interesting.

After terse discussion, the entire party took off. Sayaka Miki clambered onto the boy's back, still sobbing hysterically. The blond man gravely lifted Homura Akemi and the large man carried the senseless bodies of the other two girls, one over each shoulder.

The Incubator monitored their rooftop journey back to the shop from multiple terminals. It had learned much. Not as much as it had wanted, and the primary goal of eliminating Homura Akemi had not quite been accomplished, but useful information nonetheless.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WITCH DATA  
> ==========  
> H.N. ELLY (KIRSTEN): The Box Witch with a covetous nature. She is a staunchly reclusive witch. Anything she covets she locks away within glass. The thoughts of her prisoners are laid bare, but one can strike her without thought without problems. 
> 
> MINIONS: DANNIYEL & JENNIFER: The Box Witch's minions with the duty of transportation. Anything they touch becomes easy to carry. 
> 
> § x § x §
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: ( ° ヮ °)
> 
> Note for Bleach-only fans: To see Kirsten H.N. Elly's labyrinth, Google “Witch Elly vs Sayaka.” Read the puella-magi[dot]net entry for Elly for an explanation of her weird name.
> 
> Note for PMMM fans who haven't seen/played the Madoka Portable game: Mami's background with Witch Gisela is canon for that game and the memories of it can trigger her transformation into Candeloro.
> 
> Ayase's attacks are Puella Magi Kazumi Magica canon. Like... I think all of PMKM attacks, they are Italian puns on Western TV shows or showbiz terms. The author is my kind of dork.  
> Avviso dell'Ustione: Burn Notice  
> Prodotto Secondario: Spin-Off  
> Secondo Stagione: Second Season  
> Tocco del Male: Kinda weird. 'Il tocco del male' means The Touch of Evil and is the Italian name for the American movie Fallen. If you read a plot summary for it, it's very relevant to the Kazumi plot and the spell's purpose.  
> ...or if you translate it as Bad Touch, you get a slang term for groping that lends a certain infamous song about mammals and cable TV its name. And since the spell involves grabbing a Soul Gem off a magical girl's body and dispelling their costumes, both potential meanings are equally, *terribly* possible. ( ° ヮ °)


	56. FÜNFUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We now return to your regularly scheduled broadcast of sunshine, rainbows, and Nice Boats.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**F ÜNFUNDFÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

The rooftop journey was a blur to Sayaka. The tingle as they crossed the wards brought her back enough to register their swift navigation of the shop. Was she messed up in the head or were there _way_ more hallways and rooms than the building should be able to hold?

A shudder ran through her at the memory of the shotgun muzzle flash in her face. She was _definitely_ messed up in the head. Her head should probably be a mess _on the ground_. So. Yeah.

Sayaka wanted to throw up.

They stopped in a windowless room. Hitsugaya knelt and eased her in a corner, rose and told her to stay where she was, then hurried off to pull out futons. Sayaka nodded numbly in a delayed reaction, certain she couldn't move if she tried. She watched Hitsugaya help lower each of her friends onto a different futon. Mr. Tsukabishi swept a hand above Mami's body. She glowed faintly green as he turned away. The two men had a muttered conversation before the big man repeated the action on Madoka. Both men knelt over Homura's body.

Homura's breath was labored and raspy, what little Sayaka could see of her waxy face so pale and blue-lipped beneath drying gore that Sayaka wondered how there could be any blood left in her body; she looked like a breathing corpse. Her long hair was matted with congealing blood and fragments of bone and... other stuff Sayaka didn't want to think about. A deep gash in her neck had reopened in transit and was the first thing the men addressed. Mr. Tsukabishi did something that made the blood stop then Hitsugaya leaned down and iced it over with a light touch as they all muttered while pointing at different points of her body. Urahara gently lifted Homura's left hand and pressed the new Grief Seed against her ring. Homura moaned and fluttered her eyelids. Her eyes rolled around sightlessly and she writhed in agony but she flexed her hand and made her Soul Gem appear in egg form.

Sayaka wanted to throw up. The Soul Gem was so dark she could barely make out any purple. If she believed everything Homura had told her, her friend was on the cusp of turning into a Witch. On top of Mami being... dead? All because Sayaka had run ahead of her other friends and needed to be saved because she was _too damn oblivious_ to notice she was running right into a labyrinth.

She remembered being pulled in all directions by the creepily smiling marionettes, remembered her own body making creaking sounds like cloth stretched too tightly.

Sayaka wanted to throw up.

She remembered Mami's empty-dead body falling toward her in the not-water, unfocused eyes wide in vacant surprise

Sayaka wanted to throw up.

She remembered the Familiars' screens changing channels from scenes of a car accident and a screaming woman to scenes of magical girls in various colored costumes dying violently; pink and red and yellow and blue Soul Gems exploding with blackness-- or just exploding; the nightmare visions of Witches with clown faces and pumpkins and mermaid tails and dinosaur skeletons and candle-heads and spinning gears flickering ominously; was fervently glad she had been far enough from the screens to avoid seeing faces as magical girls were maimed.

Sayaka wanted to throw up.

She remembered the sight of Homura from between the slits in her visor. Remembered the shotgun, yes, but also the wretched face Homura had been making beyond it before she pulled the trigger. The tears in her violet eyes, so stark against the mask of gore on her skin.

Sayaka wanted to throw up.

She remembered becoming herself once more in the park, Homura's bloodied and exhausted face as she fell forward onto her.

Sayaka wanted to throw up.

She jolted back to reality at the sound of Homura sighing in relief. Sayaka saw that the Grief Seed in Urahara's hand was crackling and sparking blackly; he barked an order at Hitsugaya, who immediately ran from the room. What was more important to Sayaka was that Homura's Soul Gem had much improved. It was still worryingly dim, but Sayaka saw that it was fully purple in the moment before it flashed and reverted to ring form on Homura's hand. The magical girl's entire body went limp as she lost consciousness again.

Hitsugaya hurried back into the room as he popped the lid off some kind of glass tube. Urahara immediately shoved the Grief Seed into it. He grabbed the tube and closed it as Hitsugaya produced a second one. Sayaka shuddered at the object Urahara took out of his haori and shoved in the tube. That had been the last thing she saw before she had--

before she had--

Sayaka shuddered again and hugged herself, trying to ignore the way her skin crawled. Remembered twisting inside her. Remembered her leg bones cracking and popping and doing things they should never have done. Remembered the shotgun. Homura's despairing face. Her own face being blown off. She wanted to throw up.

“I gotta throw up,” she blurted.

The men glanced at each other, then to Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya appeared at her side and lifted her. She didn't remember getting to a restroom but found herself retching into a toilet somehow. When she was done, she fell back into quiet sobbing. Having forgotten anyone was with her, Hitsugaya's hand on her shoulder startled her into shrieking. He pulled his hand back, but carefully replaced it when she looked at him. His face looked so awkward that hysterical laughter burst from her against her will. Hitsugaya looked disturbed, but stayed where he was and cautiously held out a glass of water.

They spent a long time and no time at all sitting across from one another in the hall. Hitsugaya stayed silent the entire time, mostly staring placidly at the wall to one side of her head with occasional glances to read her face and gauge her rocking. When she had calmed, he murmured, “We need to clean and dress your wounds until they can be healed.”

Sayaka blinked tears from her eyes and stared at him. “Wounds?”

He eyed her oddly for a moment then lifted his chin to gesture at her body. “You have gunshot wounds. They don't seem to have hit anything vital, but they need tending.”

Sayaka looked down and stared at the two bloody holes in her uniform top and a graze at the hip of her skirt. She poked a finger in one hole, registered that the warm wetness was bloody flesh, and numbly said, “Oh.” Tilting her head, she mumbled, “I don't really feel it.” She pouted and added, “Cleaning this uniform will suck.”

Hitsugaya sighed something about shock and then they were in the room with everyone else again. Mr. Urahara was kneeling beside Homura. One of his hands was hovering over her face and exuding warm green light; the other cradled the magical girl's left hand, a thumb glowing the bright red of the little magic trick he had shown them the other day pressed against the Soul Gem ring. He looked frustrated. Sayaka was made to sit on the last futon just as Mr. Tsukabishi relocated Madoka's shoulder with a cringe-worthy pop and lay her limbs out straight. Bile rose in Sayaka's throat again. At least it seemed she had missed the setting and splinting of Madoka's leg.

“Progress?” Hitsugaya asked as he stepped closer to Homura.

“She's accepting all the reiatsu I pour into her ring,” Urahara muttered distractedly. “Drinking it right up. Gem's not getting brighter--”

“Darker?” asked Hitsugaya.

“No,” Mr. Urahara answered, slightly mollified. “Perhaps I'm keeping pace with her need? My attempts to directly heal damage are... unsatisfactory.” He huffed and gave up on the head wound, settling back and focusing on the Soul Gem.

Mr. Tsukabishi leaned over and looked at Homura with narrowed eyes, lifting his glasses and peering at something Sayaka couldn't see. “She's using your transfusion to heal herself?”

“Yes. Mostly, but not entirely.” Mr. Urahara raised Homura's hand and looked at the ring more closely. “She's doing something else, too, but I'll be damned if I can tell what it is. The healing is too slow for my liking.” He cast his gaze down at Homura's face, which they must have cleaned in Sayaka's absence so they could see the wound. Homura's face spasmed in pain as she struggled to draw each reedy breath through her mouth. The center of her face looked wrong. There, but... not right. Not exactly crumpled, but delicate and not filled out properly.

“What's with her face?” Sayaka asked dully. “Why won't she breathe through her nose?”

“She hasn't repaired enough of the underlying nasal cavity structure for it to be functional yet,” Mr. Urahara said clinically. “What she has is essentially incomplete scaffolding. My best guess would be she didn't want to waste magic on it because her airway from her mouth was intact. The nasal passage would be redundant and she had more pressing things to address.”

“Oh.” That should probably worry Sayaka more than it was. Instead, it had the immediacy of a TV medical drama. _Words words boring words; shut up and get to the part where you cleverly fix the patient._

Well, _she_ was the one who had asked the question, Sayaka conceded. To herself. Was she arguing with herself now?

Mr. Urahara looked up at Sayaka and met her eyes. “This was a stab wound straight through her head with a large-ish blade, slight downward angle, front-to-back with a twist, was it not?”

“Yeah.” Sayaka's voice sounded weird even to her. Detached.

With a sharp nod, Mr. Urahara looked down at Homura again. “Looks like she focused on the brain-- parts of it, anyway-- the eyes, the cranial structure to support them, and the muscles and nerves that control them; the occipital lobe; some surface structure to hold it all in... leaving the rest for later.” Under his breath, he murmured, “Such fine control and priority assessment, in battle besides... but how was she able to _think_ with this much frontal lobe damage...?” Louder, he asked, “Hitsugaya, she was able to speak and plan coherently? Problem-solve?”

“Yes.”

“No apparent memory problems or personality changes? Irrationality?”

“No. Sharp as ever. All _there_. Just disoriented and sluggish in an exhausted way.” Hitsugaya's mouth quirked wryly. “And aware of it. And _pissed off_ by it. Able to accurately assess her flagging endurance and need for the Grief Seed then account for those in tactics. I never would've guessed she had brain damage.”

“Fascinating.”

Mr. Tsukabishi moved back over to Homura and lowered his own glowing hands to touch Homura's brow where his boss' had been. He gravely met Mr. Urahara's eyes. “Her skull is still eggshell thin there, but the damaged brain tissue beneath is... well, improved from its state half an hour ago. The bleeding's stopped. Still catastrophic.”

Sayaka dry heaved. _Catastrophic brain damage?! But she had been fighting just fine!_ Unwillingly, Sayaka's eyes drifted to the unidentified substance scattered in the blood clots in Homura's hair. She made an educated guess at its makeup and dry heaved again.

Mr. Tsukabishi then gently turned Homura's head and slipped his fingers to the point where Sōju's sword had exited. “Occipital lobe has improved even more. Cranium's closer to normal there, but still fragile. Better than it was, though.”

“It's too slow,” Mr. Urahara repeated.

Mr. Tsukabishi held his hands above Homura as though warming his fingers at a fire. He guided them around as though dowsing and wandered up to her left arm, then followed it down to Mr. Urahara's grip on her hand. “You were right. Connections all funnel through that arm. No wonder direct healing is difficult.” He dropped his hands, sat back on his heels, and stared pensively. “It's as if... her heart chakra moved to her hand-- her ring finger,” Mr. Tsukabishi said slowly. “Her entire system is... restructured.”

Mr. Urahara grunted unhappily. “I thought so. It's more apparent with the system stressed near to breaking. Wasn't as obvious in the twins. I need to study...” He _tsk_ ed disappointedly. “Not now, though.”

“We do have that spare Grief Seed,” Mr. Tsukabishi suggested. “Perhaps purifying her will let her heal more efficiently.”

“Perhaps. But I'd rather not use it up until I've studied it more.” After another minute of frowning, Mr. Urahara sighed deeply. “Hitsugaya, retrieve Miss Inoue, please,” he said curtly. “I'd rather not take unnecessary risks and this will go much more quickly with her aid.”

Sayaka was about to ask who Miss Inoue was when Mr. Tsukabishi's hand covered her eyes and she relaxed into sleep.

§ x § x §

Sayaka shifted under her covers and rolled onto her front. She stretched and yawned blearily, then peeked out to find a clock. Her surroundings jarred her fully awake. This was that room in the magic shop, and her friends--

_Stressed near to breaking--_

_Catastrophic--_

_Near to breaking--_

She levered herself up on her elbows, desperately searching for her friends. The other three girls were all there. They were all clean and whole-- healed. Mami was eerily still and glowing green, but Madoka and Homura appeared to just be in deep, peaceful sleep. Relieved, Sayaka's arms and legs gave out and she flopped onto the futon once more. After a moment of thought, she flipped herself and searched her own body. No wounds. No blood stains or bullet holes in her uniform, either. Had she been dreaming?

“--Miki? Are you with me, Miss Miki?”

Sayaka turned her head on her pillow to find the source of Mr. Urahara's voice. He was sitting cross-legged near a wall, cradling a steaming teacup in his hands beside a low table bearing a tea set. His face was solemn but kind as he rubbed one finger around the rim of his cup. Somehow, his lack of weird bucket hat struck her as a sign that he was deathly serious.

“Y-yeah,” Sayaka stammered. She shyly pressed her head into her pillow. “Um, did that-- did that all really happen?”

“The carousel labyrinth and the battle within it?” he asked quietly. “Yes, unfortunately.”

Sayaka squirmed uncomfortably, then sat up on her knees and hugged her blanket around her. She glanced at her friends and back again. “Will they be okay?”

“Physically, yes. Psychologically, I cannot say,” Mr. Urahara answered easily. “Miss Tomoe is in stasis because her Soul Gem is missing. Do you know where it is?”

Sayaka held a hand over her eyes and took a steadying breath as she thought back to the moments before Mami's barrier around them had collapsed. “That white and purple magical girl Stranger Danger told us about grabbed it off her head. Homura fought her for it but things got really crazy and--” Her eyes teared up of their own accord. She had seen the jet of blood from Homura's neck; had seen that sword skewering Homura's head and the way the magical girl kept fighting despite it, movements drunken but effective as she glowed violet.

_Catastrophic--_

_Near to breaking--_

The whole “immortal puppet if the Soul Gem is intact” thing Homura had sketched out for them was hard reality.

After a long silence, Mr. Urahara delicately said, “My nephew told me about the end. I apologize for asking, but you are the only one who has regained consciousness. Can you tell me how you came to be as you were?”

Sayaka shuddered and stared at him in haunted silence. Mr. Urahara tilted his head in consideration and waved a hand in invitation, urging her over to the table. She crawled over with her blanket and plopped herself down across from him as he poured her a cup of tea. Sayaka took the cup gratefully and focused on it as she haltingly recounted what she could remember. He never interrupted her or judged her, simply humming his understanding at points when she struggled to put things into words. When she was done, he didn't pry for more; he thanked her and went quiet. Sayaka looked up at him and found the man contemplating the surface of his tea with a troubled frown.

“Um. Thank you for helping us,” Sayaka mumbled. “Healing us?”

Mr. Urahara glanced up at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh? You are quite welcome, Miss Miki. But Tessai and I merely stabilized you. The bulk of the work fell to Miss Inoue.”

Sayaka followed his faintly amused glance across the room to a futon and occupant she hadn't noticed. A young woman-- college-age?-- was sprawled across it, long auburn hair disheveled. Her lips were parted and she was drooling. The two silvery hairpins tucked near her ear caught Sayaka's attention, but she couldn't say why. They were just stylized flowers or snowflakes. Nothing really remarkable.

“She is a superb healer,” Mr. Urahara explained. “I sent my nephew to fetch her. We took measures to ensure that the Incubators don't notice her. Please _never_ speak of her outside of this building. None of us want her to be targeted.”

Sayaka turned her gaze back to the shopkeeper. “Is she a magical girl?”

“No. She's like my business partner and nephew. She learned how to use her magic herself.”

With sudden intense interest, Sayaka demanded, “Can I?” She was nursing a mounting hatred of the Incubator and the magical girl who had messed them all up. Power to fight and be an asset instead of a liability was something she now burned for. She didn't want to be the weakest link anymore. It was worth working for, studying for, dedicating herself to.

“Perhaps,” he said. “But I think that is a topic for another day.”

Sayaka wilted. “Right.” She stared at her empty teacup; she could feel Mr. Urahara's eyes on her but it somehow felt reassuring instead of uncomfortable.

After a pleasant silence, Mr. Urahara said, “By the way, I apologize for accessing your phone. I used it to message your parents as if I was you to tell them you were staying the night with Miss Akemi so they wouldn't worry. I read some of your previous messages to your parents so I could imitate you convincingly. I said that you all ate something that disagreed with you and you decided to just stay where you were and go to school together in the morning. Just so you know.”

Sayaka stared at him blankly. “What?”

The shopkeeper's smile was more than a touch rueful. “It's now almost three in the morning between Wednesday and Thursday, Miss Miki. I didn't want you reported missing.”

“Oh. Thanks, I guess.” She stopped, shook herself as she realized the rudeness, and sat straighter. “I mean, thanks a _lot_.”

“I am happy to help,” the shopkeeper said with a warmer smile.

Sayaka decided that, as nuts as he had been on first meeting, she kinda liked the guy.

The giant Mr. Tsukabishi brought them more tea and fussed over her for a bit, then brought her food. Sayaka had no appetite-- _bones twisting, stabbing and itching from head to toe as scales burst from her skin and_ \-- but she also didn't want to be rude to the people who had saved them, so she forced herself to eat. She was halfway through picking at her noodles when Madoka stirred. Sayaka was at her side in an instant, watching her blearily rise into awareness and remember what had happened. When the tears came, Sayaka opened her arms wide to invite Madoka into a hug. Madoka launched herself at Sayaka and clung to her as she cried. Sayaka held her gently and felt perversely better about everything. At least she could be useful this way.

Mr. Urahara stayed where he was, silent and melancholy as he watched them. Sayaka got the distinct impression that he was treating them like glass he didn't want to break, like a house of cards that would collapse if he moved just wrong or too quickly. If she was right... well, she supposed he wasn't wrong.

Hiccuping, Madoka looked around, choked on a sob at Mami's deathlike stillness, then gasped at the sight of Homura. She untangled herself from Sayaka's arms and clumsily crawled to their friend with a stammered, “Homu-- Homura-- is she-- she's ali-ive? Is she-e a-live? I-is she--?”

“Definitely,” Sayaka said with conviction. Their friend didn't look like death anymore, skin no longer waxen and lips no longer blue. Homura's rosy lips and flushed cheeks were a testament to the restoration of her blood and the center of her face was back to normal, breath through her nose silent and easy. Sayaka had seen her essentially dead-- had Homura not been a magical girl, she would have died thrice over-- so she knew just how wonderfully _alive_ Homura was.

“Her head was-- h-er hea-ead was-- her _head_ \-- sword-- th-the blood-- _blood_ \--”

Sayaka rubbed Madoka's back as her friend's hands flitted over Homura's face and neck in frightened search for signs of the mortal wounds that were no longer there.

“Homura? Ho-mura? Ho-oh-mu-ra?”

Homura shifted in her sleep and turned her head into Madoka's hand with a sigh. Her eyelids fluttered and she breathed, “Ma... do... ka...?”

“Homura!”

But Homura had already faded back into deeper sleep again. Madoka's body sagged with relief all the same.

After another minute, Sayaka coaxed Madoka over to Mr. Urahara's table. Mr. Tsukabishi appeared as though summoned and brought Madoka her own cup of the herbal tea they had been drinking. Mr. Urahara spoke equally gently with Madoka to get her own version of events. Sayaka was shamefully relieved that Madoka showed signs of also having lingering sensations from their ordeal-- she kept rubbing her shoulder and elbow, brushing her fingers along the leg that had snapped so badly.

“I must apologize to you both,” Mr. Urahara said gravely. “It is largely my fault Miss Akemi was unable to get to you more quickly.”

Both girls frowned in confusion. “How?”

“When Miss Kaname called Miss Akemi, I had taken her into a chamber beneath the shop for training.”

“Beneath?” Sayaka said quizzically, looking down at the floorboards.

“Beneath,” Mr. Urahara repeated. “There was no cell reception. She got your messages when we emerged. Tessai sensed Miss Tomoe transform and fetched us in case we wanted to react somehow. Miss Akemi was gone without a word as soon as a voicemail gave her a location. We were slower to follow.” He looked down into his tea, then met their eyes seriously. “It is a mistake we will not repeat.”

There wasn't really anything that could be said to that, so they were silent for awhile.

“What happens now?” Madoka asked as she picked at her own bowl of food, which Mr. Tsukabishi had placed before her as he gave both _looks_ that commanded them to eat everything without speaking a word.

“I hunt down Ayase Sōju, retrieve Mami's soul, and _crush Sōju's Soul Gem into dust_ ,” Homura's voice snarled from behind them.

Mr. Urahara didn't look surprised, but Sayaka and Madoka whirled around to look back at the futons. Homura was pulling herself up to her knees slowly, her movements taut with threat like a panther on the hunt, face drawn with hate. Rage made her eyes seem brighter than usual-- was that a shimmer of violet magic?-- and the air in the room felt heavy.

“I'll have your back,” Hitsugaya's grim voice said from the other direction. The girls turned and saw him take a place leaning on the door jamb with his arms crossed.

Homura stared at him with that wide-eyed, near-feral expression for a long minute. It honestly frightened Sayaka.

“Her fire versus my ice and water, Akemi,” Hitsugaya replied to an unspoken argument. “Besides, she'll have a harder time getting the drop on us if we're looking out for each other. Sneak attacks on your back don't work when someone's watching your back for you.”

Homura's face shifted to grudging acceptance.

Tessai brought another bowl of food for Homura, but Homura stayed where she was, looking ominous as she ran her fingers over her Soul Gem ring. Somehow, Sayaka was strongly reminded of Midnight the Conqueror whenever the cat was near the Incubator.

“Come eat, Miss Akemi,” Mr. Urahara finally said.

“No.”

“Your magic has been restored and your body repaired, but you still need to _fuel_ your body, you know.”

“It is fine.” Homura shifted restlessly and cast about the room for exits like a caged animal. “I need to go hunting.”

Mr. Urahara was frowning now. “Your body will use less magic if you fuel it conventionally. You should probably rest it more, too.”

“It will perform well without any additional care,” Homura said dismissively as she climbed to her feet.

Sayaka was creeped out by the way they spoke of Homura's body as an object. Like she was having car trouble.

Madoka pursed her lips with concern and said, “Please come eat, Homura.”

Incredibly, the magical girl who seemed ready to charge out on the hunt paused and turned to Madoka with a doubtful frown.

“Please?” Madoka repeated, eyes tearing up.

Tension bled from Homura. “All right.”

Sayaka met Mr. Urahara's eyes and was glad he seemed to be as surprised as she was, though he limited his expression to one lifted eyebrow. She thought back to their interactions since they had met; how Homura behaved with Madoka. Little invitations, small requests, tiny smiles. A slow realization blossomed: It seemed like Madoka could say _jump_ and Homura would be in the air before _how high?_ could leave her lips. Mr. Urahara was darting his eyes from Madoka to Homura and back again, thoughtful, and Sayaka figured he was coming to the same conclusion as Madoka fussed over Homura and cajoled her into eating and drinking.

Around four, Mr. Urahara said, “Why don't you girls go to bed?” There was a command beneath the suggestion.

Homura bristled but Madoka declared it a good idea and dragged Homura to the futons. Madoka crossed her arms and pouted at Homura until she sighed and bedded down. They generally reminded Sayaka of a girl and her sulky cat.

Sayaka climbed into her own futon and wondered how she would ever sleep again. Just before Mr. Urahara cut the lights, she noticed that Miss Inoue was in the same position as earlier but no longer asleep. Instead, gentle gray eyes watched them with something like pity.

§ x § x §

Orihime Inoue was gone when Homura woke, which made her feel surprisingly disappointed. She thought Inoue would probably get along well with Madoka and Sayaka. Would probably be much better at soothing them than Homura herself was. Homura knew she was terrible at it. Madoka had fussed over everyone all morning and Homura's attempts to reassure her only made her more tearful. In retrospect, things like “do not worry, I have recovered from far worse head wounds in the past” and “at least Mami will have an intact body to come back to” had been really, _really_ awful things to say to innocents like Madoka. Probably would have horrified her own pre-contract self. These days, her concept of reassurance was skewed. Must be even worse than she thought, judging by the sideways glances Hitsugaya and Urahara kept giving her. Even Mr. Tsukabishi was better at soothing her friends' occasional crying jags than Homura was. It was safer to keep her mouth shut.

Madoka and Sayaka texted their parents to say they had overslept but were feeling better than they had. They said they were helping Homura clean the mess they had made, might take a nap, and would come home by dinner. They then spent the morning bustling around after Mr. Tsukabishi like ducklings as he did shop things to distract them.

Homura was convinced to convene a debriefing and strategy session with Urahara and Hitsugaya. They raked over every detail Homura remembered of the fight the night before. Then Urahara brought out the item that Hitsugaya said he had seen fall from the incomplete Mermaid Witch upon defeat-- the item which Sayaka had apparently told them Sōju had slammed into her forehead with the confusing palm strike.

It strongly resembled a Grief Seed in both look and feel. The silver filigree cage that usually framed the blackened Soul Gem in the center of a Grief Seed was empty and warped as though the silver had been heated and twisted. In the empty center, there was a much smaller gem that had a taijitu-like swirl, a meeting and balancing of black and gray held suspended by black brambles. The ornament on top was a silver Möbius strip and the silver spindle at its base was warped into a squiggle. It felt like concentrated Witch magic... yet not.

“Have you ever seen the like, Miss Akemi?” Urahara asked.

Shaking her head slowly, Homura answered, “No. Never.”

“It seems like a lot of new things are happening to you this time,” Hitsugaya said uneasily.

“Yes. I hate it.” She halfheartedly directed a resentful glance at Urahara, but the man blithely ignored it.

Urahara set the item on the table, balanced on its spindle. “It would seem this item is what caused Miss Miki's transformation. I'll have to do more study on it. For now, it would appear to be an imitation or derivative of a Grief Seed.”

Homura and Hitsugaya stared at him. Hitsugaya spoke for them both. “I don't like it.” He looked at Homura. “You know who could pull off something like this?”

“No.”

He shifted, frowned harder, and asked, “If it does this to someone who _isn't_ contracted... what happens when applied to an actual magical girl?” Hitsugaya paused, then looked up and added, “Or even a shinigami?”

The question settled over the table with a near-physical weight. Instead of answering, Urahara dipped his chin so his hat shadowed his face and said, “Take care to _never_ be hit with one of these.”

Afterward, Homura took to the rooftops with Hitsugaya. First they stopped at her townhouse to make a show of attending to Yoruichi so they could quietly brief her indoors before she went roaming again. Then they leapt up and patrolled. They took care to be far enough apart for it to be difficult to hit both with a single attack and constantly shuffled their positions relative to one another to make their movements less predictable. Homura found Hitsugaya an excellent patrol partner. Always focused, never chattering, mission-oriented; beneath that, his magic made her think of feeling hunted in a whiteout blizzard. He was as coldly enraged as she was. Excellent.

They crossed into Kazamino on and off. In early afternoon, they encountered the childish green Familiar labyrinth containing the Scribbling Witch's minions. The duo tore through the enemies like a hot knife through butter with brutal efficiency. Homura, further pleased by the ease of their teamwork, described the Witch whose Familiars they had destroyed in case they stumbled upon the main labyrinth. While she spoke, her phone rang. Madoka. She picked up.

“Homura! We forgot! Nagisa's mom's funeral is today!”

It had completely slipped her mind. Homura frowned at the phone. “I have other priorities right now, Madoka.”

“But what if Sōju goes after her?”

Homura paused. If Sōju managed to turn Nagisa into the Sweets Witch, Homura would almost _have to_ let Hitsugaya send her on; but that would give them away to the Incubator if it was watching labyrinths. If she retrieved the Grief Seed, she didn't want the Incubator to know they were capable of reversing the process by letting Nagisa go. They hadn't experimented on if a soul could be sent on by zanpakutō contact with the pure Grief Seed or if they'd need to spawn the Witch first. They could experiment on _her_ Grief Seed while hidden in the shop, but it was harder when Homura could put a face to the soul. If they wanted to maintain secrecy without just shelving her Grief Seed, the only other solid options should she turn and be recovered would be to ship her out to Karakura or for the girl to hide in the interminable halls of the magic shop, never seeing light of day. She didn't know the girl's demeanor, but would bet big money on her chafing and going out by herself and ruining everything. If she got turned into a Witch, it would be one more battle to waste time on, one more distraction. It would be easier for everyone if they convinced Nagisa to lay low until they could neutralize Sōju. They needed to drill caution into her even if it meant frightening her-- and Homura couldn't count on Sayaka and Madoka to be intimidating.

“I will accompany you,” she said grimly. “Put Urahara on the phone.”

After a terse discussion, Homura and Hitsugaya returned to the shop. When the three girls set out, Hitsugaya and Urahara shadowed them from just within sight along the rooftops and served as sentries around the funeral parlor.

Nagisa looked so painfully grateful at their arrival and her magic quivered with such heartbroken relief when Madoka hugged her for a solid five minutes that Homura was reminded of herself once more. Standing in a room full of strange adults she didn't know and a single relative who didn't care about her enough to even put a hand on her shoulder, watching the flower-covered caskets containing her parents, trying not to scratch at the lace collar of her black dress, wishing someone would just _hold her_. If only she had known Madoka back then....

At least Nagisa's father hovered over her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him. That was something. And he actually greeted Homura, Madoka, and Sayaka and thanked them for taking care of his daughter the day security had found her with them. He was the kind of father who paid attention to who did right by his little girl. If Nagisa's Soul Gem could be kept clean, she should have enough emotional support to have a decent chance of coming through this without turning into a Witch.

Homura's mind wandered as they primly sat through the service. It was a chance to really think about the day before-- when she had been unable to receive Madoka's calls. Urahara had led her down into the twisting halls of the shop and into a lab. There he had described the research he had been doing in greater detail. She had drunk in his every word until he showed her a Grief Seed he had been running tests on.

“ _Wait-- isn't that the Grief Seed from the Witch in Karakura?”_

“ _Indeed it is.”_

“ _But... Inoue reversed the transformation, did she not?”_

“ _Indeed she did.”_

“ _Then how...?”_

_Urahara's face was neutrally clinical as he met her eyes and said, “I placed the Soul Gem into the hand of a gigai to study the mechanism of attachment. Tests were inconclusive-- I need to refine my instruments. The magical girl reacted poorly. She did try to cooperate, but she soon went mad and turned back into a Witch. I made a point of defeating her with kidō to avoid sending her on. I got valuable information from the entire process.”_

_Homura scowled and looked at him askance. “You told Karin you would not do that.”_

“ _I said no such thing,” Urahara said in a deliberate echo of her words from weeks before. The shopkeeper's faint smile was chilling. “I said I understood her objection. Not that I wouldn't do it.”_

_They stared at one another for a long while. At length, Homura firmed her face and gave him one sharp nod. If the knowledge gained helped save Madoka in the end, it was acceptable._

The Kurosaki girls had once told her that Urahara was capable of morally questionable things. Homura understood now. The secret was a morally gray tie between them. They both knew they couldn't approach Inoue to reverse the transformation again-- she would probably balk at what had been done and possibly blab it to others who would be furious. Tsukabishi knew, but he was loyal to Urahara. Hitsugaya knew, but he was a professional soldier-- a commanding officer-- who agreed that there were times and places for distasteful methods. He obviously didn't like what Urahara had done one bit, but he limited himself to sideways glances of judgment and kept his mouth shut.

After the memorial service, they all saw Nagisa fidgeting uncomfortably and trying not to cry as a parade of adults spoke with her father. Though Mr. Momoe kept a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder, there were no other guests anywhere near Nagisa's age. The vast majority seemed to be business acquaintances of the deceased going through formalities-- something Homura was intimately and resentfully familiar with. Madoka looked progressively more indignant at how the adults were barely glancing at the bereaved girl leaning against her father; she finally looked at Nagisa stubbornly and opened her arms in invitation. Nagisa's face crumpled and she dodged through adults to throw herself into Madoka's arms. Madoka hugged and rocked her, hushing and soothing.

It felt a bit odd that it was Madoka taking the position of team mom this time around. That fell to Mami ninety-nine percent of the time.

Sayaka frowned protectively and waved to catch the attention of Nagisa's father beyond the crowd. When he was looking, she pointed to Nagisa, gestured to the other girls, and used two fingers to mime walking toward the door; then she pulled her phone out of a pocket and wiggled it in the air while gesturing at Nagisa-- _call her, or we'll have her call you_. Afterward, she cocked her head and raised her brows as though she had asked a question. The man paused, looked down at his daughter plastered to Madoka, then looked up and nodded tiredly. Sayaka offered him a thin smile and nodded back at him.

Homura led them as they shepherded Nagisa to a park with a picnic table in a wide open area where it would be difficult to pull off a sneak attack. She felt Urahara and Hitsugaya darting around a perimeter, their positions shifting and shuffling at random intervals. Sayaka and Homura sat quietly while Madoka continued to comfort Nagisa until her sobs downgraded into tearful hiccups.

“I apologize,” Homura began delicately, “But I have a warning to impart to you.”

Nagisa sniffled and rubbed her eyes. “Wha-what is it?”

“There is a new magical girl in the city. Her name is Ayase Sōju. She is attacking other magical girls.” Homura paused and considered an idea. Mami was well-known in the area.... “Have you ever met a blonde magical girl who wears yellow and fights with guns and ribbons?”

The little girl startled. “Oh! Miss Mami? One time! She was nice! She explained some things and said I could find her if I need help!”

“Yes, she is nice,” Homura said agreeably. Had Nagisa always met Mami? Mami had never mentioned it, if she had. That would be morbidly interesting. “The new magical girl stole Tomoe's Soul Gem in a fight last night.” She paused. Needed to be scarier. “And nearly killed me while trying to steal mine. My Soul Gem nearly turned black from the magic consumed to heal and fight. Without my... allies, I probably _would_ have died.” God, she hated admitting it.

“Seriously,” Sayaka muttered lowly. “Sōju set a labyrinth on fire and attacked Mami from behind. When Stranger Danger tried to get the Soul Gem back, the other girl almost took her head off then stabbed her in the face. Like, straight through her head.” She made a thrusting motion with her hand rigidly imitating a sword's movement. “Then she stuffed a fake Grief Seed in my face and turned me into a monster so she could get away. Homura had to shoot me in the face to turn me back to normal.”

Homura eyed her neutrally. She actually hadn't expected Sayaka to get in on the intimidation game-- especially even more graphically than Homura herself. Maybe she was angling for scaring the girl in an expression of protectiveness?

Nagisa's face contorted in horrified fear. “What-- what do I do?!”

“Do not transform or enter a labyrinth unless you absolutely have to,” Homura replied. She tugged a business card out of her pocket and offered it to Nagisa. “This is the address and phone number of a shop owned by some friends of mine. They know about magical girls and have protections on the premises. If you feel threatened, go there and you will be protected.”

Nagisa timidly took the card and stared at it. After a bit, she looked up worriedly and asked, “What if I can't get there?”

“Then transform and shield your Soul Gem. Run away while flaring your magic as much as you can to get my attention.” Homura tilted her head and thought. “Where is your Soul Gem located when you transform?”

“My tummy,” Nagisa said shyly.

Tummy. Stomach. Eating. Eating cheesecake. Like the Sweets Witch's tendency to eat Mami. Knowing Nagisa Momoe was going to be _deeply_ awkward.

“And what kind of magic do you have?”

Nagisa blushed and fidgeted. “Bubbles.”

...What?

“How is bubbles a kind of magic?” Sayaka asked.

“Um, I blow them with my horn and....” Nagisa made vague hand gestures.

“Horn?” Madoka asked.

Homura could feel that she was staring. _Bubbles?_

“I can transform and show you?” She sounded cautiously hopeful. At Homura's nod-- she was too damn curious-- Nagisa clambered off the picnic bench and triggered her transformation.

White bubbles burst from her Soul Gem and swirled around her, shimmering into shades of orange and brown. The bubbles popped into a series of white sigils and left her magical girl outfit behind in a confetti-fall of sparkles. Her coral poncho trimmed with white fluff was the most eye-catching part of her costume. Everything else was muted, earthy shades of chocolate-brown. Short, puffy milk chocolate bloomers were held up by suspenders, each fastened with a dark coral bow. Dark chocolate stockings with light polka dots covered the entirety of her legs and ended in dark coral slippers. Atop her head was a fluffy dark chocolate hat with catlike ears and dangling pompoms. Long fingerless gloves covered her arms. Nagisa held one hand up. A white, circular design glowed in the air, popped like a bubble and a child's toy trumpet fell into her hand.

Homura had to stop herself from attacking the weapon on reflex. With its red polka dots on a black background, medical cross, and red and blue feather decorations, it was obviously the source of the Sweets Witch's aesthetic. That combination of shapes and colors triggered a violent reaction Homura forced herself to suppress just as violently. She gripped the edge of the table so hard the rough wood bit into her fingers. The pain grounded her.

Nagisa put the trumpet to her lips and blew it while pointed straight up. A stream of bubbles gushed forth above them and popped into white sigils with explosive force. It was absolutely, one hundred percent _not_ something Homura had expected. The Mermaid Witch wielded cutlasses like Sayaka; the Wǔdàn Witch wielded a spear like Kyōko; and the Dress-Up Witch had ribbons like Mami. Bubbles and a trumpet that sounded like a high-pitched kazoo? She couldn't connect them to the Sweets Witch aside from sheer childishness. Maybe that was it? Her outfit's colors were reminiscent of her Witch's initial plushie form, though. But less pink. Wait, Momoe had been wearing pink when they found her. Hmm. Maybe the tie was Nagisa's trumpet being associated with the mouth, meaning she technically attacked with her mouth? Or the way the clownish hellworm always emerged from the plushie's mouth?

“ _Exploding_ bubbles?” Sayaka said as though surprised by being impressed. “Huh.”

Homura idly wondered if the technique would be useful in particular situations, but set that aside for later consideration. “Do you know how to make a barrier?”

“Yes! Mami helped me figure it out!” Nagisa chirped. She lowered her trumpet and blew straight in front of her. A giant bubble wiggled out from it and snapped into a perfect globe around her, its surface shimmering with the same white filigree as the sigils her attack bubbles used. The girl looked at Homura hopefully, like a puppy seeking praise for doing a trick.

“Excellent,” Homura said with a grim smile. “Do you have enough control to always hold a small one around your Soul Gem?” She triggered her own transformation with a thought and held up her hand. When her swirling violet barrier encircled her Soul Gem, she said, “Like this?”

Nagisa looked down at the space beneath her navel where her tiny Soul Gem was positioned like a belt buckle. “Ummmmmmm. Let me try?”

The older girls sat and watched her make faces and stick her tongue out in thought while she experimented. Homura murmured advice now and then. The younger girl eventually settled on blowing a small bubble with her trumpet, catching it on the tip of one finger, then pressing it over her Soul Gem. Again, she looked up with those puppy eyes and a tentative smile.

With some difficulty, Homura offered her a warmer smile. It felt brittle even to her. “Good. How long can you maintain it?”

“Ummmm. I don't know. I have to really think about it to keep it from popping.”

Homura nodded in a show of thought. “If Ayase Sōju attacks you, your first priority is to shield your Soul Gem. Your second priority is to flare your magic to attract attention to your location. Your third priority is to run for the address I gave you and cross the property line. Do you understand?”

Nagisa clutched her fists to her chest and nodded earnestly. Then she fidgeted and asked, “Is Miss Mami okay?”

Homura and her friends went utterly still. Nagisa's face fell with dread. Homura finally said, “If I don't recover her Soul Gem, she will die. All magical girls die if separated from their Soul Gems too long-- or if they are broken.”

Nagisa's face contorted in terror and she held a hand over her Gem. Homura was surprised Madoka and Sayaka didn't object to how frighteningly blunt she was being with the girl. The previous night must have shaken them to their cores.

After some fretting, Nagisa looked up at Homura and declared, “I want to help her!” Her eyes were still terrified, but she added, “Mami saved me from my first Witch! I want to save her!”

So Mami had probably saved her in other timelines. Then gotten eaten by her. Again: Knowing Nagisa Momoe was going to be _deeply_ _awkward_.

Homura considered her words carefully. “You are a very new, very young, inexperienced magical girl. Sōju has far more practice in battle.” She stopped herself from saying _you'll just get in my way_. “I do not want to put you in unnecessary danger. I am concerned that you would be overwhelmed. Tomoe would not want you to risk yourself for her sake. She would blame herself if you were injured-- or worse.”

Nagisa deflated and looked at her feet. “I just wanna help,” she mumbled.

“Then be alert and call me if you find a labyrinth,” Homura said. She could feel her patience slipping. She shifted irritably, then thought of something and pulled her spare phone out of her shield. She tapped around and held the screen up to Nagisa. “This is Ayase Sōju. If you see her, get away and call me even if she is not transformed. Memorize this face. If you see her lurking around somewhere pretending to be normal, you could help us find her more quickly and save Tomoe.”

Nagisa moved closer and intensely stared at the screen. She stared so long that Homura started shifting restlessly. Madoka noticed.

“If you think you have it memorized, I think we should let Homura go. I know she's very anxious to get Mami's Soul Gem back.”

Nagisa drew in a sharp breath and hopped backward. She dropped her transformation and mumbled, “S-sorry to waste your time.”

“It wasn't a waste at all,” Madoka said gently, smile sunny. Homura wasn't so sure about that, but whatever. Madoka stood and hugged Nagisa. “Homura will be very busy, but if you need to talk to anyone you can call me, okay?”

Homura also dropped her transformation. After escorting Nagisa back to her father, they turned back to the magic shop. Hitsugaya and Urahara joined them at a dining table in yet another room as Tessai served them all tea. Homura was impatient to leave, but Madoka gave her a _look_ and she sat down.

“Did you finish them, Tessai?” Urahara asked.

“Yes. I'll fetch them.”

“Finished what?” Sayaka asked when the man was gone.

“The magic charms I promised you,” Urahara answered. “Once you were all healed and asleep, we threw ourselves into making them more quickly. Your need seemed to become more dire overnight.”

Tessai returned and gravely gave Madoka and Sayaka each a small box that felt steeped in magic. Homura watched intently as her friends opened them. Each box contained a bracelet made of colorful beads. Madoka held hers up to sparkle in the light. Sayaka brought hers close to her face and scrutinized the stones.

“Is there... writing carved on this?”

“Yes.” Urahara snapped open his fan and held it to his face as he turned aside with blatantly fake modesty. “I fancy myself a bit of a lapidary.”

“A say what now?”

“Gem-cutter,” Tessai said with a smile. “He cheats with... magic, though.”

Urahara pouted and looked wounded. “It's not cheating if I invented the tools myself, Tessaaaaiiii. Then it's just _ingenuity_.”

“If you say so, Boss.” The big man's eyes gleamed behind his glasses.

Homura got the distinct impression she had stumbled into an inside joke between friends.

“So, what is this, anyway?” Sayaka asked.

“A collection of semiprecious stones imbued with various magic spells to work together as a system,” Urahara explained. “Largely the more useful varieties of calcite and topaz.”

“Useful?” Madoka asked doubtfully as Sayaka stared at Urahara with the blankness of not understanding a word he had said.

“All forms of calcite amplify magic and purify negative energies; various colors have more specific properties. I intend them to help _your own magic_ resist Witch lures and the effects of labyrinths-- to enhance your natural resistance,” Urahara lectured. “Then I anchored a strong shield in a few varieties of topaz, which is excellent for rejection of negative magic and protection from danger. Additionally, I set the trigger mechanism in malachite. The opaque green one.” Madoka and Sayaka shuffled their bracelets around to find it. “When you are faced with magical danger, that bead will shatter and trigger the shield. The shield will be independent of your magic. Do you see how every other bead in the strand is clear with some white streaks, like ice?” Both girls nodded. “Those are quartz. I had Tessai charge them as reservoirs of magic. Think magical batteries.” Urahara's mouth turned up into a razor sharp grin. “The power released will be intense enough for any of us--” he gestured at himself, Tessai, Hitsugaya, and Homura-- “to sense it as a distress beacon.”

Homura's inner Karin grumbled _sounds like New Agey bullshit_ , but she kept her mouth shut.

Rolling the beads around in her fingers, Madoka softly said, “It feels... really tingly. And nice.”

Sayaka went still and squeezed her own beads. She closed her eyes and looked like she was straining to hear something. “Yeah... a little bit. I think?”

“So you both _are_ aware enough to sense external magic,” Urahara said as though pleasantly surprised. “Excellent.”

After Homura helped her friends put on their charms-- which _did_ buzz with potent magic that gave her goosebumps-- she and Hitsugaya escorted them home to their worried parents. Madoka and Sayaka didn't have to fake feeling out of sorts. Homura made herself look exhausted as a show for the parents and kept her eyes averted to apologize for getting them all sick with bad food. Madoka's father had patted her shoulder and soothed her with _it's all right, it happens to everyone who cooks at some point_ , then cheerfully changed the subject to remark upon his daughter's new bracelet to spare her feelings.

Faking out Madoka's parents didn't used to bother Homura as much as it did since meeting everyone in Karakura. She didn't like the weakness.

Homura and Hitsugaya patrolled their way back to the magic shop to check in before another round of extended searching. They found Urahara waiting on the doorstep for them.

“Did the parents go for it?”

“Yeah,” Hitsugaya said. “Let's hurry this up.”

Urahara bared his teeth in a grim smile and waved for them to follow him inside.

Homura refused to sit at the table again, impatient to leave. “What were those bracelets really?”

One brow arched, Urahara said, “Exactly what I said they were. Just in a different way than I described and fancier than necessary.”

“I've seen protective charms like that before,” Hitsugaya said quietly as he sat down to tea. “Captain Shiba once made me something similar but far simpler back when I was inexperienced at fighting and suppressing my reiatsu at the same time-- I had so much that I kept inadvertently attracting more Hollows than I could handle when on assignment. Captain Shiba embedded a charm in a bronze medallion and designed it to use my own reiatsu as a power source.”

Urahara grinned and pointed his folded fan at the boy. “Isshin is indeed talented at making protective trinkets. It's one of the lesser-known specialties of the Shiba clan, along with wards. Comes in handy with all the spiritual explosives they store and handle. Isshin even made a charm for Kon back during the war. He uses metal tags on small pouches of a power source since he moved to the World of the Living.”

“Why didn't you do that, then?” Hitsugaya asked with narrowed eyes.

“What I made was more complex and required more surface area. The structure would have worked if I layered tags of etched metallic foil but I thought they'd be more comfortable wearing something cute. Easier for them to explain away, too.” Urahara dipped his chin so his hat shadowed his face. “Besides, I was able to build in some extra bells and whistles with the added support of crystalline structure. Crystal _is_ a wonderful amplifier.” He lifted his chin and turned cheerful again. Waving his fan with one hand and making a V-for-victory sign in the other, he crowed, “I also tacked on a Hollow repellent and embedded the spiritual equivalent of a GPS tracker in each of them ahahahahahaha~~~”

Homura met Hitsugaya's deadpan look with one of her own.

The pair took to the rooftops again and roved the city through the night. No sign of Sōju, but Homura wasn't particularly surprised. The magical girl was probably laying low to heal. She'd definitely need Grief Seeds to replenish herself afterward, though, and that would eventually force her out. Hours passed as they searched. When they had come up with nothing by the time the sky began to lighten, Hitsugaya insisted upon returning to the shop to rest and check in for updates. Homura initially refused.

“You need to rest your body so your reiatsu-- magic-- doesn't have to work as hard to support it, Akemi,” he eventually snapped. “Even _Kaname_ understood that despite complete lack of experience. Even captains who have the endurance to fight for _days_ without stopping avoid it if possible specifically to conserve resources. Wasting energy on something so easily handled otherwise is beneath your intelligence.”

Homura hated that he had a point, but reluctantly retreated for food and sleep all the same.

§ x § x §

When Homura woke, it was late afternoon and she had a sneaking suspicion Urahara or Tsukabishi had hit her with something to make her sleep longer. Hitsugaya was gone, having slept then decided to attend school late with a story about some minor moving-related crisis at home to avoid a suspicious number of absences among their group and keep an eye on Madoka and Sayaka.

Hitsugaya returned to the shop shortly after Homura woke, having escorted Madoka and Sayaka home. He tossed his school bag aside, nodded once at Homura, and they both took off to patrol without a word. Several hours later, their search pattern took them into Kazamino and they encountered the Scribbling Witch's true labyrinth. The two of them made short work of the childish crayon-drawing creatures and defe **a** ted the porcelain-clown-do **l** l-like Witch with **b** usinesslike effici **e** ncy while wa **r** ily wa **t** ching for Sōju to pop out from beh **i** nd building blocks or **n** otebooks. Homura was r **e** lieved to have a fresh Grief Seed on hand.

They patrolled into the wee hours of Saturday morning without encountering anything or anyone else. Homura allowed herself to be convinced to return to the shop to rest and attend school for the half day to keep adults from nosing around. Personally, she thought that if the school administration had gone weeks without investigating Mami's absences in other timelines, she could get away with not going; but the way events kept happening so differently this time made her wary enough to give in. They didn't need any more complications.

Homura moved through the school day in stony silence and allowed her bad mood to show enough to make other students stay the hell away from her. She avoided being called to the board by death-glaring at various teachers and had no patience, so much cold rage and frustration flowing through her veins that even Madoka and Sayaka were intimidated.

When the school bell rang to end the day, Homura took off like a shot, met Hitsugaya at the front door, and hurried into the trees to shove their school things into her shield and immediately take to the rooftops again. They monitored their friends' routes home then resumed their search pattern.

Every minute Sōju delayed their confrontation only made Homura obsess over their impending battle in greater and deeper detail. Made her cycle through anger at Sōju and herself. Made her fantasize about the spinel at Sōju's shoulder shattering into a millionbilliontrillion pieces.

She should have shot Sōju's Soul Gem in the alley when she had the chance. Acquiring new allies had made her soft. Homura vowed to correct that mistake with extreme prejudice.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: one step forward, two steps back
> 
> My chapters always get so much longer when the plot picks up. *side-eyeing myself*


	57. SECHSUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Shifting back to aiming for Friday updates. I dunno what I was thinking doing Mondays.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**SECHSUND FÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Nagisa spent Friday huddled with Daddy, grieving in their tiny apartment in the sketchier far southwest of Mitakihara. When Mommy had stopped working, money had gotten tighter. They had sold their house and moved into a nice apartment back in Kinuma. When Mommy got so sick she had to be transferred to Mitakihara, Daddy had regretfully explained that while the government was now paying all of Mommy's medical bills, he couldn't find a good enough job in the new city to get a really nice apartment and they would have to eat cheap food that wouldn't be as good as she was used to. But that was okay with Nagisa as long as she could be near Mommy while she got better. Mommy said that when she was better enough to go back to work, they would be able to live somewhere nice again. And they would celebrate with Mommy's favorite cheesecake. The _really_ fancy kind. The expensive kind. The kind they couldn't afford anymore. The kind Nagisa had wasted her wish on.

Now Mommy was gone forever because Nagisa was a stupid stupid _stupid_ idiot and Nagisa and Daddy only had the ruins of their old lives falling through the hole the wrecking ball of Mommy's death had left in their family. The way Daddy kept breaking down crying was Nagisa's fault. Her Soul Gem was dimming again, but she didn't call Miss Homura. Nagisa probably deserved whatever would happen to her if it turned black so she didn't want to waste the older magical girl's time and Grief Seeds.

On Saturday, Daddy and Nagisa took a train east to the coast by Shinchi. They wandered the shore with Mommy's small metal urn until they found an abandoned pier. They spent a long time sitting on its edge, holding hands and looking out at the ocean even though the place made Nagisa's skin crawl as though something creepy had happened there. Mommy had loved the ocean. She had organized so many summer beach trips over the years. Daddy said they would take Mommy's ashes to the family grave back in Kinuma someday, but he wanted to take Mommy to the sea one more time. Nagisa hadn't known her heart could break even more than it already had.

So they sat and listened to the surf without speaking, the urn full of Mommy's ashes a loud presence cradled in Daddy's hands.

When they tried to go home at sunset, the direct route train was shut down because of an accident down the line. So they took the long way that looped up through Kazamino. When they got off to transfer to a westward subway, Daddy paused and cocked his head as though he had heard something. After a few halting steps, he turned away from the entrance and walked right past it.

“Daddy? Where are you going?”

“There's... something I need to do,” he said distantly.

“Oh. Okay.” Nagisa dutifully tagged along after him.

They zigzagged through streets and alleyways. Daddy stopped answering questions after a few blocks-- or what felt like a few blocks; Nagisa thought they might be going in circles. She stayed quiet though-- a lady at the hospital had told her Daddy might do weird sad things for awhile and that was normal so she shouldn't be scared. But she worried when Daddy stopped and stared at a bar. Then he stepped into the street to cross to it. Without looking both ways. Which he always, _always_ yelled at her for doing. A car screeched to a halt and honked. Daddy just kept walking forward with the same uncertain steps. No reaction.

“Daddy?!”

No answer.

Nagisa bit her lip, looked both ways, and darted after him. Instead of going _into_ the bar, Daddy wandered around its corner into an alley. If she hadn't been watching him so closely, she would have missed the mark on his neck as he turned.

A Witch's Kiss.

Nagisa whipped her head down to look at her ring. Her Soul Gem was glowing. There was a Witch nearby. She panicked and shouted, “Daddy! Stop! Come back!”

Not only did he not stop or answer, but he dropped Mommy's urn from limp fingers. It hit the pavement with a metallic clang and rolled away into some trash.

Nagisa's stomach lurched. “ _Daddy, no!!!_ ”

A dark sigil wavered into existence in front of several crates of empty booze bottles. It looked like a blocky sketch of a bird whose head and tail were sticking out of a wire birdcage. And Daddy walked right into it. The sigil swallowed him and blinked out of existence.

Panic froze Nagisa. For a minute, all she could do was gape in horrified disbelief at the wavering air where the sigil had been. She then took a jerky step forward and brandished her Soul Gem to make the sigil appear again. Just to make sure it was still there.

What was she supposed to do?!

Hyperventilating, Nagisa hugged herself and tried to remember Miss Homura's instructions.

_Do not transform or enter a labyrinth unless you absolutely have to._

Well, Nagisa thought this qualified as _absolutely_ have to.

_Transform. Your first priority is to shield your Soul Gem. Your second priority is to flare your magic to attract attention to your location._

She could do that. She could do that. Yes, she _could_ do that.

_Your third priority is to run for the address I gave you and cross the property line. They know about magical girls and have protections._

She _couldn't_ do _that_. Not when Daddy was inside the labyrinth.

_The new magical girl stole Tomoe's Soul Gem in a fight last night. She set a labyrinth on fire and attacked Mami from behind._

She... she would have to be very careful. It was very dangerous, but she couldn't leave Daddy. Nagisa failed at saving Mommy because she was tricked, but she could never forgive herself if she didn't do better at saving Daddy. If Mommy was watching from Heaven, maybe she would be happy if Nagisa could save Daddy.

Maybe Mommy would forgive her.

Taking a deep breath, Nagisa transformed, flared her magic as much as she could-- reached, reached, felt Miss Homura's magic flare in alarmed response from afar-- blew a bubble for her Soul Gem, and entered the labyrinth on shaky legs.

§ x § x §

Hitsugaya slammed a hand on Homura's shoulder just as she was about to stop time and home in on where Momoe's magic had flared and disappeared. Homura snarled and tried to shake him off but his grip was like cold iron. She opened her mouth to yell at him but he shook her hard as his phone rang.

“Dammit, Akemi, you have allies to coordinate with now!” Hitsugaya snapped as he yanked his phone out of a pocket with his free hand. “Don't run off on your own without cursory communication so we don't trip each other up!”

He had a point, but this kind of delay was part of why Homura had once vowed not to rely on anyone anymore. It was faster to plan everything considering only herself. Besides, she actually had control of herself. She couldn't control allies, and that was a weakness that lowered the effectiveness of having allies.

Hitsugaya tapped his phone's screen to put the caller on speaker. Without any greeting, Urahara's voice barked, “Thirty-eight degrees northeast of your position. Fourteen-point-one kilometers.”

Homura blinked and dully said, “What?”

“You didn't think I'd move up here and not deploy at least _some_ sensors from the moment the wards were active, did you? I got even more online since the carousel,” Urahara said mildly. “Look for a McDonald's--”

“A what?” asked Hitsugaya.

“Western food. Sign's a giant yellow letter M,” Urahara explained. “Look for that, a bar with a blue neon sign shaped like a martini glass, and a red, white, and green convenience store sign. The signal was somewhere in between. I still have some tweaking to do to make triangulation more exact.”

Homura stared at Hitsugaya's phone. That was... unexpectedly useful information.

“Anything else detected in the area?” Hitsugaya asked curtly.

“Aside from Momoe's transformation signature? Nope~!” Urahara sang. “Not that my current sensor array can pick up, anyway.”

“Keep us updated,” Hitsugaya said curtly, then ended the call. He turned to Homura and raised a brow expectantly, yellow magic flickering around his fingers.

Homura nodded firmly and froze time. They rushed through the washed-out city linked by the magic lasso spell, tersely calling out plans for working around each other once they figured out what they'd be fighting. When they found Urahara's landmarks, they stopped in the middle of their triangle and Homura dropped the timestop.

“I do not sense Sōju,” Homura said as she cast about. She held up her Soul Gem and observed its glow. “There is a labyrinth nearby.” They hopped around rooftops dowsing for the entrance. When they found it, Homura frowned at the sigil. Before Hitsugaya could ask, she said, “The Birdcage Witch. It is a giant pair of a woman's legs trapped in a birdcage. To defeat it, you must first break the birdcage. I can usually take it out with one grenade once the cage is out of the way. It can sling chains down from above. It is a very dim labyrinth. Familiars are birdmen who are vulnerable to fire. Generally not a difficult labyrinth, but if Sōju is inside....”

“A simple labyrinth is probably the best place to fight her,” Hitsugaya muttered. “Would it have a lot of hiding places?” He rolled his shoulders and manifested an ice sword and a loose collar made of ice that confused Homura until she realized it would protect his neck if Sōju tried to slip behind him. He wouldn't be able to immediately heal a critical neck injury like Homura could.

Homura pulled a flamethrower from her shield and prepared it. “It is a very large... room or hall, and things tend to be obscured by darkness beyond a certain distance, but there aren't a lot of solid objects to hide behind. I would keep an eye on the bar counters, though.”

“Bar counters, huh?” Hitsugaya said with a glance at the bins full of empty alcohol bottles by the back door of the bar. Taking a deep breath, he looked back to the sigil and said, “Shall we?”

As usual, the floor was lined in black lace and ambient light was provided by multicolored gemstones raining from the fathomless darkness above. The scents of spiced rum and cigarette smoke wafted through the labyrinth accompanied by the sound of chirping birds and rustling wings. Homura led Hitsugaya forward by the least-obscured path of lace as it meandered through the darkness. There were points where the distant walls narrowed enough for them to make out the glimmer of sheer, beaded curtains, shelves full of books, booze bottles, and neat displays of glassware-- cordials, flutes, goblets, shot glasses, all manner of things to drink alcohol out of in style. A couple minutes in, they started to find islands of twitching feathers and masculine limbs in the darkness.

“Momoe must have managed to get through the first wave herself,” Homura commented. “Unless it was Sōju. But I do not see burn damage or slices.”

Hitsugaya hummed unhappily and peered into the darkness on either side. “That bar counter. Explosive damage without scorching.”

Homura glanced to one side and saw a shattered bar counter in the distance, bar stools and shards of glass lying in disarray with dead birdmen slumped on the bar.

“Probably Momoe, then,” Homura said.

They hadn't gone far when the abyss above them became dense with the sound of angry birdcalls. Homura aimed her flamethrower straight up just as the first Familiars descended. As usual, they were the bodies of muscular men with win **g** s for arms and c **o** lorful bird heads wi **t** h ridiculously oversi **z** ed eyes. Once they were in range, Homura methodically swept a jet of flame over their heads. Burned birdmen dropped around them. She sprayed fire until the Familiars stopped coming. Hitsugaya dispatched any that survived their fall to the ground with quick stabs.

Hitsugaya glanced at her curiously as she lowered the flamethrower. “I've heard of those but never actually seen one,” he said. “Where did you steal that from?”

Homura noted the lack of judgment in the question. As though the theft itself was unimportant. Good. “I took a train to a forest half an hour inland and got it from a rural firefighting regional headquarters,” she said as she checked the weapon's integrity. “They stock them to set controlled back-burn fires to stop the spread of forest fires.”

The shinigami tilted his head thoughtfully and said, “Back-burn...? Huh,” before returning to scanning for enemies. The look on his face reminded her of when Urahara was fascinated by something she mentioned that made him want to do research. She began to understand an offhand comment Karin had made about her friend frequently prodding her with questions about things modern living humans did.

They proceeded warily, fighting off waves of Familiars until they heard popping, explosions, and a girl's voice making distressed sounds between high-pitched horn blasts. They increased their pace but didn't allow themselves to be distracted from watching for an ambush. When they reached a bend in the lace floor, they found Nagisa Momoe desperately fighting off a swarm of Familiars with her bubble trumpet, her fear plain on her face as she stood over a body. It took a moment, but Homura recognized the unconscious man as Momoe's father.

Well, at least Momoe actually had an understandable excuse for ignoring her order to not enter a labyrinth by herself. It was obvious that she was in over her head, though.

Exchanging a glance with Hitsugaya, Homura said, “I will use the flamethrower. You shield them and watch for ground attack.” The shinigami raised a brow at her barking orders again, but must have found the plan reasonable as he gave her a businesslike nod and leapt forward at her side. Hitsugaya defended with horizontal slashes of his sword and arcs of ice while Homura concentrated on the birdmen from above. Homura noted the louder sound of clanging chains; they must be near the Witch.

A shriek of metal on ice behind her made her instinctively dodge to one side. As she turned, she saw that Hitsugaya had blocked a blow from Sōju, who appeared to have struck from a downward angle through the air thick with roasting birdmen. The shingami redirected the strike, released one hand's grip on the hilt, and punched at Sōju's face with a fist encased in spiky ice. She dodged backward and crowed, “ _P_ _unto d'Infiammabilità!_ ”

Hundreds of needles of flame lanced out at them. Homura conjured her swirling violet barrier as Hitsugaya countered with a horizontal sweep of ice. The projectiles exploded with blinding flashes upon impact with the ice, kicking up a huge cloud of steam. Sōju grinned and melted backward into the smoke and steam like a phantom. Nagisa gave a delayed shrill of fright as the sound of Sōju's laughter echoed around them.

“You had to bring a _boy_ into a fight between girls?” Sōju taunted airily. “Are you scared of little old me? I thought you were tougher than that.”

Homura didn't bother responding. She stored the flamethrower and pulled a machine gun as Hitsugaya made ice race up from his hands to form bracers on his forearms and extended a ledge of ice down and back from his collar like miniature wings to guard his shoulders. They took stances on either side of Nagisa, facing outward and scanning for Sōju in the darkness between falling gemstones.

“Not gonna talk? How rude. Maybe another sword through your skull will teach you some manners.”

Nagisa sobbed in fear and huddled over her father's body. “What do you want?! Why are you attacking us?!”

“Want?” Sōju echoed. “Your Soul Gems, of course!”

Her voice bounced around with a different quality. Homura figured she must be moving around. It was difficult to sense her clearly so close to the Witch, whose distant thrashing was making chains rattle above them.

“Why?!” Nagisa squealed.

“Why?” Light laughter mocked her. “I collect them! They're unmatched in beauty because they shine with the light of life!” Her voice suddenly sounded closer. “Ooh, a white Soul Gem? That's uncommon. Here, let me show you!”

Small flashes of brilliant color and a few splashes of white light blinked into existence among the falling gemstones of the labyrinth. Dozens of Soul Gems sparkled all around them in the thinning steam. _Dozens_. Bile rose in Homura's throat. The theft of Mami's Soul Gem hadn't been a one-off strategy. This girl stole souls just like the Incubator did.

“What's your name, little one?” Sōju's voice cooed from yet another angle. “Gems need names, you know? I need to label my collection properly.”

“You're sick,” Hitsugaya said in a low sneer.

Sōju just laughed.

Nagisa sobbed. “I don't want to be-- I don't-- Don't take my--”

“Then run away, little girl,” Sōju said sweetly as poisoned honey. “Akemi's the one I want most. I'll be nice and give you a head start. I'll find you later. Take the boy with you.”

“Run,” Homura ordered.

Nagisa whipped her head up to stare at Homura. “But Daddy!”

“Take him!” Hitsugaya snapped.

“B-but he's big and I'm little!”

Homura forced herself not to turn and glare at the girl, staying alert for attack. “You're a magical girl! _Use your magic!_ ” she snarled.

Nagisa squeaked like a mouse, rustled around fretfully, then blew a big bubble with a shrill toot on her horn. Soon, Homura caught a glimpse of her in the corner of her eye as she ran away, pushing a bubble containing her father's senseless body ahead of her.

There was only the eerie rattle of chains for a long minute. At length, Sōju's voice huffed, “When are you going to kick out your boyfriend and fight me woman-to-woman?”

Homura's eye twitched in irritation. Hitsugaya muttered something under his breath.

Sōju sighed in false disappointment. “I guess we _are_ more evenly matched this way,” she declared. “Makes it more fun.” Her voice shifted again. “Are you really going to shoot a machine gun around indiscriminately? With all these beautiful souls floating around? A good girl like you wouldn't want to hit any, would you?” Sōju finally stepped from the darkness further up the lace path, barely within sight. “Especially this one.” She held an amber Soul Gem up between forefinger and thumb, licked it smugly, and cradled it right up in front of her own Soul Gem, a red spinel attached to the shoulder just above the white and purple ruffles at her left breast.

Mami. Mami's Soul Gem.

Sōju smirked and dipped her head down to touch the tip of her tongue against the floral ornament atop Mami's Soul Gem. Homura's blood sang in her ears with her rage, but she forcibly reined herself in. She couldn't allow herself to be prodded into the same kind of instinctively angry reactions that had cost her in their last encounter.

Homura scowled and stopped time. She turned to face Sōju and scrutinized the space between them. No clear shot. Not with Sōju using Mami's Soul Gem as the magical girl equivalent of a human shield.

“Akemi.”

She glanced sideways at Hitsugaya, who had turned with her. His face was sharp and utterly without emotion beyond a cold glint in his eye. “We'll flank her. Push Soul Gems aside and loop around. Get out one of your small guns. I'll grab Tomoe's Gem. You be ready to shoot Sōju's as soon as I get Tomoe's clear, before Sōju has time to react.”

Homura hated being ordered around but the plan was sound so she nodded, shoved the unused machine gun back in her shield, and retrieved a Beretta. They walked to Sōju with measured steps, the yellow rope spell glowing between their ankles expanding as necessary while they gently pushed aside Soul Gems as though parting curtains. When they reached the enemy magical girl, Homura stared at her face for a moment. She wanted to stab it as payback, but Sōju had proven to have quick reactions once exempted by contact. It would be too much of a risk for something so petty.

Beretta raised, Homura shifted around until she found a good angle and positioned the muzzle a bare centimeter from Sōju's spinel. She met Hitsugaya's eyes and raised a brow. He shifted around her and hovered a hand near Mami's Soul Gem.

“On three. One. Two. Three.”

Hitsugaya clamped his hand over the amber egg and Sōju's fist and yanked to the side, away from Sōju's Soul Gem. The contact exempted Sōju from the timestop. She gasped but didn't have time to react beyond that as Homura's handgun immediately shattered her Soul Gem. Homura dropped the timestop and coldly watched the light leave Sōju's eyes as her battle costume evaporated around her. The empty body crumpled to the floor. Homura stared at it as the multitude of floating Soul Gems fell to the floor with a chiming series of pings.

Homura still wanted to stab Sōju's face.

“Let's collect all these Soul Gems,” Hitsugaya said solemnly as he held Mami's out to Homura. “We can't just leave them here.”

Homura took it and stored it in her shield with a sigh. “Yes.”

They had turned, walked a few steps back, and were bent to pluck Soul Gems when unfamiliar magic exploded behind them. They whipped around to look just as Sōju's enraged voice roared, “ _Caso Freddo!_ ”

Homura barely registered the words before a cold force slammed into her back like a wall of knives and sent her tumbling. She rolled to her feet and looked back again. Hitsugaya had large spikes of ice lodged in the ice armor over his shoulders and had bleeding gashes on the side of his head and various parts of his body, but he swung his ice sword with a roar and sent his own flock of dagger-like icicles flying back at Sōju. Homura caught a glimpse of Sōju in a different, red magical girl costume just before the girl swung her sword to block the icicles and shrieked, “ _L'Inverno sta Arrivando!_ ” Hail and snow pelted them as the labyrinth filled with a dense, freezing mist.

Homura froze time and stared out into the fog as she and her ally broke chunks of ice off their limbs. Sōju had disappeared; the mist surrounded them with her magic and made it impossible to sense her position.

Hitsugaya lowered his blade. “The hell is going on?! I saw you break her Gem! Felt her reiatsu disappear! She should be dead!”

“She had a different costume,” Homura muttered as she pulled a machine gun. “That implies a different Soul Gem.” She paused in thought. “She is using a completely different sort of magic, too.”

“Ice against ice. Great,” Hitsugaya grumbled, also scanning the mist.

“Worried?” Homura asked lowly.

“Not particularly,” he replied. “It'll just be annoying to calculate how much resistance she has to ice attacks and use just enough power to overwhelm her.” He eyed Homura over his shoulder. “Does the Incubator come into labyrinths to possibly see me use more power than I show outside?”

“Sometimes,” Homura answered. “Usually with a magical girl so it can observe her, but who knows what else it does.”

“What a pain,” Hitsugaya griped. “So much for releasing seals and snatching all the mist from her before she realizes what I'm doing.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course. Hyorinmaru gives me control of the moisture in the air. This mist feels like mostly natural moisture held by her reiatsu, not her reiatsu solidified. If her grip on it isn't strong enough, I can turn it against her. Without my limiters, that would be easy as breathing.” He scowled unhappily. “That ability is limited in this gigai. There would be a delay before I could control all of it and with the limiter on me she may be able to... start a tug of war on it, I guess.”

“Concentrating on that could delay her reactions to _me_ , though.”

Hitsugaya perked up and looked calculating. “Point.”

After a brief discussion, Homura dropped the timestop.

“We weren't going to kill the boy, you know,” Sōju's bitter voice echoed around them. “But now you've destroyed my precious Ayase. She was my greatest treasure. I'm going to make you suffer!”

“Talking about yourself in plural _and_ third person now? You really are insane,” Hitsugaya taunted as he held his sword out in front of him; tendrils of the mist crept along the ground, faintly swirled around his feet, and shimmered up his body. “Guess that's to be expected from a homicidal soul collector. Monster.”

Harsh laughter rang around them. “ _You_ killed Ayase, not me.”

“And who are you?” Homura asked.

“My name is Luca Sōju,” Sōju's voice said airily. “You killed my sister. Prepare to die!”

Before she could attack, Hitsugaya made a yanking motion with his blade. The mist in a five meter radius was rapidly drawn to and around him. It condensed into icicles the size of bullets and he launched them in every direction with a shout.

A series of pings like breaking glass rang out around them. Much of the mist rapidly retreated, leaving a wide open area studded with floating colored sparkles but leaving enough to continue to conceal Sōju's location. Hitsugaya's grip on the mist had slipped in his horror at the realization that the enemy had sent the scattered Soul Gems airborne again and he had irrevocably shattered several souls.

“Who's the monster now?” Sōju drawled condescendingly. “At least _I_ don't destroy Soul Gems. I treasure them for the precious life they are. You're such a cold-blooded murderer! And ruining my collection besides!” Her voice rose in a snarl. “Those were _priceless_ , you bastard!”

“Then you should not have risked them like that in the first place, you idiot,” Homura sniffed. Her eyes slid to Hitsugaya, who made a choking sound that edged into a hateful growl. “Do not let her get under your skin,” she said emotionlessly. The glance he gave her started angry and moved into incredulous-- _accusatory_ \-- then bitter before he looked away again.

“Ooh, my precious Ayase was right! You _are_ the stoic type!” Sōju's voice cooed. It immediately dropped into guttural rage. “I'll collect your Soul Gem if it's the last thing I do, _bitch_.”

“Go ahead and try,” Homura said lightly, face a cold mask as she continued to sweep her machine gun around warily. A large part of her didn't care about the other Soul Gems. Those girls were functionally dead anyway. Or would have been, without her new allies. The possibility of the souls being given those fake bodies made her pause, but eliminating Sōju was her first priority. The more the enemy's voice shifted back and forth between mocking cheer and dark fury, the more convinced she was that the girl was truly insane. It meant she was dangerously unpredictable, yes, but it also meant she was more likely to make a stupid mistake if they could taunt her enough to attack without thinking-- the tactic she was trying to use on Hitsugaya. And so... “Your sister tried repeatedly and look where it got her. She is less than dust now. Would you like to join her? I am more than willing to oblige.”

Sōju's voice gave a wordless shriek of rage and the floating Soul Gems flew toward one position in the mist. The mist dropped from around Luca Sōju, who stood firm with a sword brandished and had a thoroughly unhinged look on her face. The Soul Gems whirled around her billowing red dress in a tight orbit. It would be impossible to attack her without hitting a Soul Gem. Sōju threw her arms wide and screamed, “And how do you think you'll be able to do that without destroying these other beautiful souls? You wouldn't want to destroy them just to get me, would you?” She looked hard at Hitsugaya and bared her teeth in a mocking grin. “You wouldn't want to be a _mass_ murderer, would you?”

With Sōju's position revealed, Homura raised her shield with a sneer to freeze time and pluck the Soul Gems from the air. Which they should have done in the first place, _damn it all_. Sometimes she hated hindsight.

_FWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!_

A stream of bubbles flooded at Sōju from behind. Some hit her and exploded, but most flowed around her and encased each Soul Gem then spiraled upward and behind Sōju as she whirled to look. There stood Nagisa Momoe, shielded in cleared air by a bubble at the edge of the mist, looking utterly terrified as she continued to blow her trumpet. The Soul Gems shielded by her bubbles flocked around her. Sōju roared in rage and charged at the girl, sword raised for a strike.

Homura stopped time.

“The little _idiot_ ,” Homura hissed.

“I dunno, seems to have worked,” Hitsugaya said grudgingly. At least he was also unhappy.

Homura drew a steadying breath and suppressed her anger. Later. She could deal with the little twit later. “Let's finish this.”

They stepped up to Sōju and stood on either side of her. They found Luca's white Soul Gem on the opposite shoulder Ayase's red one had been on-- encased in thick ice that glowed with her magic. Homura clicked her teeth in annoyance and Hitsugaya huffed in frustration.

“Looks like she picked up your trick,” Hitsugaya said with a glance to the barrier Homura held around her own Soul Gem.

“Use your magic to remove the ice.”

Hitsugaya frowned and held a hand near the lump, gauging it. “It's _her_ ice, made of her reiatsu-- magic. Damn near fused to her actual soul. I can't control that. It's not truly moisture.”

Homura's lip curled into a snarl. “Stab her in the face while I shoot her Gem from close enough to hit before it stops. Contact with you will unfreeze her long enough for the bullet to have immediate effect. Pull back so she's subject to the freeze again. I will aim again. Stab her somewhere else. I want her distracted between shots. Dismember her if you must. Do it as many times as possible for me to chip through.” She was pleased that he nodded and got in position to do as she said.

The first four repetitions went well; the ice shield was stubbornly resisting much of the impact and ricocheting bullets glowing with Homura's violet magic off into the misty darkness, but Homura managed to chip away half of its thickness. On the fifth repetition-- probably about two seconds' time from Sōju's perspective-- the lump of ice exploded outward in spikes with Hitsugaya's next stab at her abdomen. Aim ruined, Homura fell back with an icicle through her left eye socket and right clavicle as the barrier over her Soul Gem took a direct hit but stayed intact. She heard Hitsugaya curse and cough wetly, then the clang of steel on ice somewhere to her left as she reeled and took stock of her head injury. What kind of contact did Sōju have with Hitsugaya to be able to move? Unimportant. One eye was hit but both eyes were blind. The icicle was angled through her optical--

“Drop the stop and heal faster, Akemi!” Hitsugaya roared, voice rough and almost gurgling. Punctured lung? “I've got this!”

Homura ground her teeth but obliged. The sound of sword battle and the sting of cold moved further away, joined by the sound of birds. They had moved far enough along the path to trigger another wave of Familiars. Fabulous.

“Momoe! _Shield her!_ ” Hitsugaya ordered with undeniable authority.

The little girl gave a startled squeak. Momoe's trumpet trilled. Homura felt herself surrounded in magic-- one of Momoe's bubble barriers. The whole thing was infuriating. It would allow her to focus her magic and heal with greater efficiency, but she _hated_ it.

She should have just bombed Luca Sōju when she was standing out in the open, Soul Gems be damned. Should've killed Ayase in the alleyway at their first meeting instead of trying to figure her out.

Should've, should've, should've. Always should've.

Enraged, Homura gripped the icicle through her eye socket and yanked it out. She flooded her brain and eyes with magic-- _again_ , damn Sōju and her-- their?-- head shots-- as she tugged the other icicle out of her chest. It took but a moment to stem the blood loss there and snap her clavicle together like a jigsaw puzzle. Several moments more and Homura's sight was restored, her magic then shifting to repair the rest of the wound.

The mist was gone but there was ice everywhere. Their entire group had wandered far enough for the chains above them to be low enough to be visible. Icicles dangled from every chain, some glowing faintly blue and others glowing faintly white. Birdmen were encased in boulders of ice in a winding trail along the lace floor. Hitsugaya and Sōju were engaged in vicious sword combat, each using their ice in dirty tricks to surprise the other. Both were bloodied, but every wound they had was iced over. Sōju was worse off and on the defensive, backing deeper into the labyrinth with many of Hitsugaya's strikes.

“Remove your barrier,” Homura ordered Momoe without looking at her. She watched the two combatants intensely, waiting for an opportune moment to stop time-- looking for a good opening on that goddamn Soul Gem.

“B-but--” Momoe stammered.

“ _Do it!_ ”

Momoe squeaked; the bubble popped harmlessly as Homura stalked forward, waiting for the perfect moment. She didn't have to wait long. The next time Hitsugaya and Sōju locked blades, the shinigami conjured a spike of ice on his knee and rammed it up into Sōju's stomach. The girl shrieked and jerked just enough for Hitsugaya to force her blade aside and slide his sword down toward her left wrist. Sōju let go of her blade with one hand, flung the hand behind her, then thrust it forward in a palm strike at Hitsugaya's brow. Hitsugaya's eyes widened as he saw the imitation Grief Seed flying toward his face, snapped the ice spike off his knee, let go of his blade, and dodged back awkwardly while making the ice bracer on his forearm expand into a crude shield to block the--

Homura stopped time with a click as soon as Hitsugaya had no direct or indirect physical contact with Sōju.

Even as he stumbled back, Hitsugaya opened his hand and made another sword of ice. He fell into a ready stance with it and an armored forearm blocking his face, hyper-focused on Sōju as he panted heavily. It took several breaths for him to process the timestop and relax. He turned to see Homura prowling toward them with one hand deep in her shield.

“Akemi--”

“Shut up.” She hauled out an RPG launcher and shouldered it. “Chop that hand off, grab that _thing_ , and get back.”

Hitsugaya's brows arched toward his hairline, but he turned back to Sōju with his face settled into arctic lack of emotion. His blade quickly severed Sōju's hand-- the one holding the fake Grief Seed. Sōju was exempted from the timestop for only the span of a breath before freezing again. Lowering his sword, Hitsugaya plucked the object from the severed hand's palm, encased it in ice, shoved it in his pocket, fell back, and took a defensive pose between Sōju and Momoe.

Homura stopped ten meters from Sōju. She shot the RPG at the girl's face. Pulled another and shot it at her abdomen. Pulled another and shot it at the Soul Gem on her shoulder.

Time started up again with three simultaneous explosions. Homura stood firm in the backwash, glowing violet, and raised her shield arm to conjure her swirling barrier and whirl it outward to clear the smoke. She froze time again as soon as she could see Sōju, then walked closer. The enemy had been blasted back and was frozen in a tumble, thoroughly maimed but Soul Gem intact.

The ice around the Soul Gem was gone, though.

Homura stared at it hatefully for a moment before pulling a pipe bomb from her shield and dropping it from a height that would cause it to freeze in the air in the path Sōju's body was taking, in the perfect place to be hit by the shoulder the Soul Gem was attached to. She half expected Hitsugaya to discourage her, but he remained silent. She stepped back as she palmed the remote detonator, then released the timestop and clicked the button. Homura used her magic as a buffer against the explosion and savored the faint shattering sound that accompanied the final destruction of Sōju's second Soul Gem.

This time, Homura let the smoke clear naturally as she stood and stared at Sōju's mangled corpse. Hitsugaya stepped up next to her and stabbed his sword straight down into it, encasing it in a miniature iceberg. They stared in silence, waiting for some unlikely counterattack. The only sounds were chains, distant birds, and Momoe's still-frantic gasping.

“It's done,” Hitsugaya murmured a good five minutes later.

Homura let her eyes close and sighed. “Yes.”

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm going to try to keep up my current update pace, but my annual re-certifications are coming up so they may slow again. JSYK.
> 
> Punto d'Infiammabilità and L'Inverno sta Arrivando are attacks I made up based on TV show shout-outs like the manga does. They mean Flashpoint and Winter Is Coming, respectively. Or so Google Translate says.


	58. SIEBENUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fun times ahead.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**SIEBENUND FÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Before advancing into the labyrinth, Tōshirō gathered Soul Gems from Momoe's bubbles with Akemi and stored them in the magical girl's shield. When done, Akemi turned to him and held out her hand.

“Give me that thing.” Meaning the imitation Grief Seed.

“No.” Tōshirō didn't wait for her to snap at him, which she was obviously about to do. “What if inserting it into your shield works on you the same way as inserting it into Miki's forehead?”

Akemi blanched and withdrew her hand. “Point taken.” After a moment, she huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder, pulling a flamethrower again and stalking deeper into the labyrinth. “Let us finish this and get out of here.”

He wholeheartedly agreed.

The Witch was anticlimactic after their battle with Sōju. As Akemi had told him, it was a woman's to **r** so from the base of the sternum d **o** wn, feminine curves and legs clad in lacy **b** lack lingerie and stockings. Birdcage bars arc **e** d out from the cente **r** of the top of the **t** orso-- probably from the spine. So the c **a** ge was part of its body? It stayed in one place despite the furiously kicking legs causing the birdcage to thrash around noisily. They didn't particularly have to worry about Familiars as the Witch seemed to have crushed a fair number of them, and the chains lashing from above were simple enough to avoid and block even while keeping one eye on Momoe. Akemi dodged closer, froze time, and fired several RPGs at the cage. Time resumed; the birdcage broke apart in a series of explosions. Time froze again when the smoke cleared enough to see the legs falling from their perch. Akemi fired more RPGs, unfroze time, and stood impassively as the second round of explosions destroyed the Witch and collapsed the labyrinth.

Even as their surroundings wobbled out of existence and put them back in the alley, Tōshirō frowned at Akemi's back as she extended a hand before her to catch the new Grief Seed drifting toward the ground. The timestop was an invaluable tool, but he wondered if she relied on it too much.

“I'm glad to see you didn't need me,” Urahara's voice said behind them. “Did you encounter and eliminate the target?”

Momoe squeaked in surprise and actually clung to Tōshirō's waist as he and Akemi turned to look toward the mouth of the alley. The shopkeeper stood there, face serious as he took in their appearances, evaluating wounds, bloodstains, and body language with sharp eyes. He held the cane that concealed his zanpakutō in both hands, positioned near a hip as though contemplating drawing the blade within.

“Yes,” Akemi answered coldly in a way that reminded Tōshirō of Soifon reporting on a covert op.

Urahara relaxed. “Did you recover Tomoe's Soul Gem?”

“Yes. And forty-three besides.”

Tōshirō glanced at her over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised as Urahara crooned, “Is that so?” in calculating interest. For better or worse, those Soul Gems would probably be finding their way to Urahara's lab. Better than Kurotsuchi's lab, Tōshirō supposed.

“Daddy!”

Momoe released Tōshirō's waist and ran to a body slumped on the ground among the crates of empty liquor bottles. She threw herself down on the man and shook him, breath hitching with new tears. “Don't die!”

Urahara stepped forward, leaned down, and gently lay a hand on her shoulder. “He is simply stunned, Miss Momoe. We will take him to my shop and help him recover. He will be fine. Come along.”

Momoe sobbed her relief and backed off as Urahara lifted her father over his shoulder. Tōshirō and Akemi jumped to the rooftops ahead of them when Momoe gasped, “Oh! I need to get Mommy! The Witch made Daddy drop her!”

They were all confused until the little magical girl jogged to one side of the alley and pulled a funeral urn from among some trash. Tōshirō felt Akemi's reiatsu flicker with anger and glanced at her in question as Momoe tenderly brushed refuse off the item, polishing it with her poncho. Akemi noticed, glanced at him, and looked away. He had to strain to hear her grit out, “I _hate_ what Witches do to people. Such disrespect to--” She cut herself off and looked murderous.

Tōshirō was suddenly reminded that Akemi was an orphan and probably had _feelings_ about funeral urns containing the remains of parents.

Their rooftop journey to the shop was leisurely so Momoe could keep pace with them. The little girl was tired and her Soul Gem was dim, so they didn't see a reason for her to push herself. They all followed Urahara to the normal part of the living quarters of the shop, where he lay Mr. Momoe on a futon in a dimly lit room. Momoe fussed over him but yawned.

“Miss Akemi, please use a Grief Seed on Miss Momoe's Soul Gem and your own,” Urahara said quietly. “We will let Miss Momoe rest with her father for a little while.”

Akemi blankly complied and didn't react when Momoe hugged her around the waist afterward. Momoe stepped back uncertainly as Tessai came in the room with a tray of food and drink. Urahara gently ordered Momoe to eat and sleep. The girl fretted, but complied after a moment's hesitation.

Urahara led Tōshirō and Akemi into the deeper halls of the shop and sat them around a table that already had tea and damp towels waiting for them. As soon as they sat, Akemi wiped the blood from her face and hands on the warm towel, took a dainty sip from her teacup, set it down next to the discarded towel, and started pulling Soul Gems out of her shield. She lined them up on the tabletop in neat rows as Tōshirō tidied up himself and Urahara watched. The last one she pulled out was Tomoe's. She hadn't seemed to care about the others, but closely inspected Tomoe's for damage before setting it directly in front of her with thinly-disguised reverence; she cautiously set one arm on the table near it in a protective curl. Just like Tōshirō had seen his soldiers who had come from Rukon districts where food was scarce treat their plates in the mess hall. An unconscious measure to prevent theft. Combined with her earlier rage....

Akemi cared about Mami Tomoe more than she let on. Considering also the way she had spoken of Miki in early debriefings, Tōshirō wondered how much of her seeming annoyance with the other girls was self-preserving bravado.

“Please describe everything that happened after our phone contact,” Urahara ordered in a clipped voice.

Tōshirō and Akemi took turns describing the events. When he was reminded of how he had shattered several Soul Gems, Tōshirō choked on his words. As a shinigami, he was supposed to protect souls. His current mission was, in part, to save magical girls' souls. And he had destroyed them. He stared at the table blankly, mind turbulent as Akemi finished the debriefing.

After a minute of quiet, Akemi flatly said, “Do not torture yourself over those Soul Gems. Those magical girls were functionally dead already.”

Tōshirō slowly looked up at her and scrutinized her blank face. “You're jaded.”

“Yes. I am,” she admitted easily.

“You know they are capable of being sent on even if they no longer have bodies.”

“We know _Witches_ are capable of being sent on,” Akemi said. “We know nothing of the pure Soul Gem state as yet.”

He looked at her askance and argued, “You know we think it's _possible_.”

“Perhaps. But your actions were reasonable, their destruction was accidental, and our mission succeeded in the end. You are military, are you not? You should be familiar with the concept of collateral damage.”

Tōshirō stared at her. Again, he was reminded of Soifon in a bad way. In his peripheral vision, he noticed that Urahara was studying Akemi closely as she sipped her tea and pretty much ignored them. What he was thinking was a mystery, though.

After a few minutes, Urahara said, “So. I'm thinking we should have Miss Kaname and Miss Miki on hand when we reunite Miss Tomoe's Soul Gem with her body. After they comfort her, we can explain at least the soul crystallization to her and Momoe at the same time. We can save the tie to Witches for another time, once they have accepted this first piece of information.”

Akemi pursed her lips and stubbornly refused to look at him, but eventually lifted her chin in assent.

Urahara tilted his head and scrutinized her. “You are withdrawing from us, Miss Akemi,” he said bluntly. When she made no move but to coldly look at him out of the corners of her eyes, he went in for the kill. “You are afraid of how Miss Tomoe will react and are numbing yourself in preparation.”

Akemi's mouth turned down in a harsh frown and she glared at the shopkeeper.

“You think we will be destroying Mami Tomoe's Soul Gem tonight, don't you?”

The magical girl still said nothing, but the arm around Tomoe's Soul Gem twitched. After a long mutual silence wherein Urahara waited for her to react, Akemi forced her face into blankness and looked at Urahara directly. “Do you or do you not wish to proceed with your plan?”

Urahara continued to stare at her. It seemed a silent battle of wills-- or calculations. Finally, Urahara inclined his chin and coolly said, “Contact Miss Kaname and Miss Miki. Say Miss Tomoe's out-of-town emergency has been resolved, she has returned from her trip, and has invited all of you over for a Saturday night sleepover to relax and catch her up on schoolwork. That should clue them in that the crisis is over. Once Captain Hitsugaya's wounds have been dressed, he will wait near Miss Tomoe's apartment and intercept them to come here. I will heal him more fully later-- I want the girls to see he is injured. You go to your home and retrieve Yoruichi and some cat food to keep up that charade. We will wake Momoe to witness the reunion of Miss Tomoe's soul and body. After they calm, we will discuss things further.”

“Fine,” Akemi said sullenly.

It was very obviously _not_ fine, but she cooperated.

An hour's time found Tōshirō leaning against a light pole near Tomoe's apartment complex in casual clothes, idly watching moths flutter in the glow of the lamp as he waited and tried to ignore the ache of his gigai's bandaged wounds. Soon, Kaname and Miki hurried around a corner, sighted him, and jogged over, school and overnight bags bouncing at their sides.

“You got Mami back?!”

“What about Sōju?!”

Tōshirō pushed off from the pole and gestured for them to follow him. “We recovered Tomoe's Soul Gem intact. Sōju is dead.”

Kaname gasped and Miki looked grimly satisfied. As Tōshirō turned away, Kaname said, “Were you hurt? Your voice sounds....” She trailed off as she couldn't find a word.

“Rough?” Tōshirō ventured.

“Yeah,” said Miki.

Tōshirō sighed. Time to remind them of the violence involved as a deterrent to contracting. “I was took several hits in the fight. Most of my wounds are healing fine.” He casually held an arm up and flexed it so the sleeve fell away and revealed clean gauze on his bicep, then stuffed both hands in his pockets. “A chest stab slipped between ribs and nicked a lung. It needs more healing, but it's functional and we thought you should be present when Tomoe wakes up.”

“A lung?” Kaname gasped, holding a hand over her mouth.

“Yeah.” Thank _God_ Urahara had made the gigai more durable than the average human. The lung hadn't actually collapsed. Fighting with a collapsed lung was _hell_ as a spirit; in a fragile human body, he could have lost consciousness for lack of oxygen and been slaughtered.

They walked in silence for another block before Kaname worriedly asked, “And Homura? Is Homura hurt?”

“She's fine now. Healed with her Soul Gem and used a Grief Seed to restore it,” Tōshirō answered. “Pretty sure she's pissed that Sōju stabbed her in the eye again, though. Among other things.” He looked at them over his shoulder as they made choking noises. “Just so you know, Akemi is in a dangerous mood. Tread lightly with her tonight.”

“I-- I thought she'd be happy,” Kaname said doubtfully.

Tōshirō sighed heavily and looked forward. “She's pissed Sōju nailed her in the face again. Pissed at Momoe for going into a labyrinth alone then defying an order. _Furious_ at some things we learned about Sōju. _Enraged_ that Sōju had a trump card and got one over on us before we could end her. Probably second-guessing a lot of our moves in the fight for ways we could have saved ourselves trouble-- I know I am.” He tilted his head thoughtfully and considered the tentative psychological profile Urahara had composed about Akemi. Maybe the girls would be able to help reel her back in if they could head off the bad reactions. Up the potential sympathy factor. “Pretty sure she's also angry at herself for not killing Sōju earlier, maybe even the first time she saw her-- you know, blaming herself for... everything-- and afraid Tomoe is going to snap when she wakes up and we explain things to her. So Akemi's withdrawing. Doing that thing I told you-- wait, no, I told Tomoe.” Tōshirō sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. Bothersome. “Akemi gets cold and bitter as a defense mechanism. If she says things that anger or offend or disturb you, don't let it get to you. She probably doesn't mean it.” He turned and gave Miki a hard look, knowing from Akemi's reports on previous timelines that she often had knee-jerk reactions. “Don't let her push you away by getting you angry. Out-stubborn her.”

Miki's face went mulish as though she would argue, but she cut her eyes away and looked troubled instead. Tōshirō hoped that was a good sign.

The rest of their journey was completed in uneasy silence. Tōshirō led them through the dark shop and down the long hallway to the living quarters, navigating twists into the hidden corridors with ease until they found the room that had been their impromptu infirmary the other night. Tomoe's body lay in stasis on the only remaining futon. Akemi, Momoe, Urahara, and Tsukabishi were seated at the low table. Momoe was fretfully looking from person to person. Urahara was watching Akemi, who had an arm loosely curved around Tomoe's Soul Gem again as though she hadn't left. At least she had thought to wash off the rest of the blood at home. She was rigid and expressionless as a statue of cold marble.

“Homura!”

Akemi's eyes slid toward them as Kaname took an eager step forward but drew up short. The magical girl's eyes were twin voids. She was there and light years away at the same time. After a hesitation, Kaname firmed her shoulders with determination and marched forward to kneel next to Akemi and hug her. Akemi allowed the contact, but her only other reaction was a slight tilt of her head.

Miki gulped audibly and passed Tōshirō to take a place at Akemi's side. Tōshirō glanced at Urahara and raised a brow in question. Urahara's sharp eyes looked from him to the doorway to Tomoe and back. Tōshirō took a position casually leaning against the door jamb and prepared himself to stop Tomoe if she tried to bolt upon awakening.

Urahara lightly clapped his hands once to get everyone's attention. “Now. What I would like to do is wait to explain everything until Miss Tomoe has repossessed her body.” A flick of his eyes indicated that he did not miss Miki's shudder at the term. “She will likely be quite upset. We will rely on you girls to help comfort her as we explain things.” Kaname nodded firmly. “My plan is to explain things gradually. At least for tonight, please do not explain anything more than myself or Miss Akemi if you know more on a topic. This will be quite shocking-- and I daresay this will be new to Miss Momoe, as well. Will everyone cooperate?”

After various nods and nervous murmuring, Urahara turned to Akemi and held his hand out. Akemi stared at him for a moment, frowned at his hand, picked up Tomoe's Soul Gem, stood, and turned to Kaname instead. She gently took Kaname's hand, pried it open, and tucked Tomoe's Soul Gem into the palm, then folded the fingers closed again.

Akemi looked the startled girl in the eyes. “In the hand. Just like with me. The last thing she will remember is being attacked from behind while surrounded by her worst memories. Expect her to panic at the sudden change. She may fight. Afterward, she will probably cry.” She released Kaname's hands and stepped away.

“B-but—Homura! What--?!” Kaname scrambled to her feet, cradling the amber egg to her breast. She looked baffled and distraught. “Why?! I can't-- Homura, wait!”

Akemi glanced back over her shoulder. “You can. You are the kindest and most trustworthy person in this building,” she said frankly, as though rendering judgment or stating a universal truth. “Her soul is safest with you. You know what to do.”

“I don't--!”

“You do. Just be yourself.” And then she brushed past Tōshirō as if he wasn't there.

Tōshirō noticed the implied barb at Urahara. A glance at Urahara's carefully neutral face told him the scientist did, as well. Miki's face twitched but she pursed her lips and stayed quiet, eyes sharper than Tōshirō expected of her evaluating every face in quick glances.

“Umm, why-- why is Miss Homura leaving?” Momoe asked.

Tōshirō sighed. “She doesn't want to be here if Tomoe reacts badly. She's seen it too many times before.” He sensed that Akemi wasn't far off, though-- down the hall, perhaps, though distance was strange in the bowels of the shop. The girl couldn't bear to be near but also couldn't bear to be far. Tōshirō could sympathize with that feeling, but it worried him. He couldn't decide if it was better or worse than her taking off altogether.

Urahara took a deep breath and blew it out in a gust. “Well, Miss Kaname. Whenever you're ready.”

Tōshirō found himself impressed by how quickly the human girl went from gobsmacked, overwhelmed confusion to kind determination. She strode to Tomoe's bedside and looked down at her with lips pursed in thought. Glancing up, she beckoned, “Sayaka.”

Miki stood promptly and moved to Tomoe's right side as directed without a peep of objection. At Kaname's murmured, hesitant prompting, each girl knelt and took one of Tomoe's hands in her own. Kaname met Miki's eyes seriously and took a deep breath. “Try to keep hold of her, but don't... be hard. And don't yell.” She wet her lips as Miki nodded, then looked up at Tōshirō and Urahara. “If she-- if she fights, you'll-- stop her but don't-- not-- won't hurt her, right?”

Tōshirō nodded with Urahara. Tsukabishi shifted positions and dispelled the green stasis spell with a gesture, then held his hands in a neutral starting pose for kidō, ready to choose a spell on the fly. The big man said, “I can bind her with a spell if necessary. As a last resort. I don't want to make her panic more by waking up already bound.”

Tension eased off Kaname's face and she nodded at Tsukabishi. Another deep, centering breath later, she was lowering Tomoe's Soul Gem toward her left hand, eyes intent on Tomoe's face.

Bit by bit, Tōshirō was beginning to see what had inspired Akemi's devotion to her.

§ x § x §

_\--like smoke, danger!_

“Mami?”

Madoka

Mami's eyes snapped open light in front of her someone attacking her back-- more guns _more guns_ aim behind--

“Wah!”

Sayaka

\-- _fire!_

Booms shouts cracks squeals thrust away hands restraining her own clatter of guns falling... beside her?

\--turn to see... a pillow? not enough air sight dimming starbursts in vision--

“Mami. Slow down. Breathe! Mami, look at me. Mami, you're safe, you're safe, breathe!”

Madoka's voice firm not screaming no music no not-water whatwherewhat--

“Breathe, Mami!” Madoka's voice commanded her. Hands grasped her shoulders, thumbs rubbed circles.

Mami inhaled more deeply, screamed, and threw the arms off her, eyes searching everywhere looking for white and purple frills fingers light silver smoke--

No carousels, snow, water, or TV screens, no deadMom deadDad _that_ Witch, no angels, nothing, no threats, just _pure adrenaline_ , walls, ceiling, people, people, Madoka Sayaka that-girl-that-one-time boy-with-magic shop-men... no Homura?! Her ally-- friend?-- hurt, bleeding, warn _behind you!_ , where--

Hands grasped her own, which she hadn't realized she was holding to her head. They caressed gently, slid under her fingers, pulled her hands away, squeezed again.

“Look at me, Mami.” Madoka. Calm smooth kind voice. “Breathe and look at me.”

Mami gulped air as though surfacing from a dive, eyes finally focusing on Madoka, who smiled at her then opened her mouth wide to mime a slower breath. Mami unconsciously matched her. Copying her rhythm for a few breaths made Mami realize she had been hyperventilating. Nothing made sense, but as her mind downshifted from red alert, Mami was able to tell herself that she would figure it out when she could think properly. She startled at a hand on her shoulder, but calmed when she saw Sayaka smiling at her with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Mami took an extra big breath and gasped, “Akemi-- I hurt her-- ambush-- where--”

“Homura is fine now,” Madoka soothed. “We all got out alive. We're safe. It's over.”

And the tears came.

Mami tugged her hands back and covered her face, crying her relief and shame. She heard rustling cloth-on-cloth and then a hand was stroking her hair, a slight breath of warm-ramblingrose-comforting-Madoka-magic soothing as fresh rose tea radiating from her fingers. Did the girl even know she was using it?

It felt like a long time before she calmed enough to accept Sayaka's hand to sit upright. Mami rubbed her sleeves over her face repeatedly to mop up the tears, noticing for the first time that she was in her school uniform instead of her battle costume. Had she been unconscious? She sniffled as she looked around the room. At the faces of all the people who had seen her at her crying messy worst. Her face burned in embarrassment. Her eyes caught on Hitsugaya, who was leaning on a door jamb and watching her with obvious sympathy. Mami looked down at her lap and wrung her hands. No one said anything for a long time. The silence stretched as though waiting for Mami to make the first move. Mami could not. Could not.

“Ah, my poor floor.”

Mami lifted her chin and blinked owlishly at Mr. Urahara. He was seated at a table at the far end of the room with Mr. Tsukabishi and-- little Nagisa?

“You certainly know how to regain consciousness with a _bang_ ,” Mr. Urahara said with lighthearted relief.

Sayaka choked on a laugh that came out as a screech and Hitsugaya made a disapproving click with his tongue. Mami looked down and found several of her ivory rifles scattered on the floorboards. The floorboards which looked like they had been bombed around the pillow her head had been resting on. Charred and splintered beyond repair.

Mami covered her mouth as she gaped, dismissed the rifles, then gasped, “I'm so sorry!”

Mr. Urahara laughed merrily.

“Really! I'm so so sorry! I'll-- I'll pay--!”

Mr. Urahara produced a fan from his sleeve and waved it dismissively a few times. “It's nothing, it's nothing! An excuse to redecorate! Like the time I brought someone home for Tessai to heal and they literally blew the roof off my old shop when they woke up, ahahahahaha~~~~”

Mami was going to object again but was surprised by something soft and warm brushing her side. She looked down and found Homura's black cat rubbing at her hip. “Eh? Where did you come from?”

The cat meowed and threw herself on her side, raising her front arm in a blatant demand for a chest scratch. Mami complied automatically.

“Stranger Danger brought her from home when it looked like she'd be camping out here for a few days,” Sayaka said.

“A few _days?_ ” Mami looked up. “ _Was_ I unconscious?”

“In a way,” Mr. Urahara said, wiggling his fan in a gesture she interpreted as _kinda-sorta_.

Madoka took her free hand and squeezed it. “Let's sit at the table and talk about it, okay?”

Mami eased into a seat between Madoka and Sayaka as Mr. Tsukabishi poured her a cup of steaming tea. She gratefully lifted the cup to her lips in shaking hands; strong German chamomile with a touch of honey and cinnamon-- the flavor she had told Mr. Tsukabishi was her favorite when he helped her choose a new tea to try yesterday. Or... probably not yesterday, now. Yesterday to her? Whichever. She thanked him weakly and allowed herself to be distracted by Yoruichi climbing into her lap and purring.

“Um... um, are you okay, Miss Mami?” Nagisa asked timidly.

Surprised, Mami stared at her, then recovered. “Oh, I'm feeling much better,” she said with the best reassuring smile she could manage. “What are you doing here?”

“Miss Madoka and Miss Sayaka and Miss Homura helped me on Monday when I was sad after m-my m-mommy died,” Nagisa answered, eyes tearing up.

Mami set down her teacup as her face fell. “Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Come here.” She opened her arms.

Nagisa crawled around the table and hugged her fiercely, then sat back and rubbed her eyes. “A-and they even came to M-mommy's funeral on Thursday. Then today Miss Ho--”

“Wait. Thursday?” Mami looked around worriedly. Past tense? It was Wednesday last time she checked. “What is today?”

Nagisa looked away.

“Saturday evening,” Hitsugaya's steady voice said behind her.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, startled. “ _Saturday?_ ” Turning back to everyone at the table, she stammered, “I was out... I was out for three days?!”

“Yes, Miss Tomoe,” Mr. Urahara said gravely.

“What _happened_ to me?” Mami was baffled. “With my magic... Was I badly hurt? How...? My magic should have....” She trailed off and looked at everyone.

Mami did not like the looks traded around the table.

“You were ambushed by Ayase Sōju,” Mr. Urahara said. “She stole your Soul Gem. You instantly lost consciousness. We brought your body here. Miss Akemi has been leading the hunt for your captor from then to this evening, when she and my nephew were able to retrieve you.”

Appalled, Mami clutched her Soul Gem ring to her chest protectively. Her mouth worked silently as words failed her. But-- “Retrieved... me? But you said she took my _Gem_. Not _me_.”

A smile ghosted across Mr. Urahara's face. “Ah, you're a clever one.” He met her eyes and looked curious. “You're already working it out for yourself, aren't you? You finally have enough information.”

“I don't-- I don't understand--” No. No. “Taking my Soul Gem... took my magic, right? A magical girl without magic would... I don't... I'm not my....” No.

“Mami.”

Mami turned to Madoka, who was looking at her with sympathetic regret. “What?”

Madoka took one of her hands. “This is one of the things Homura has wanted to tell you. She wanted to tell you gently, not like this.”

Mami shook her head in denial. No. No.

“You too, Nagisa,” Madoka said gently, reaching out with her other hand. Nagisa latched onto it and watched her in silent dread. Madoka took a steadying breath and said, “You are your Soul Gem. Your Soul Gem is your soul. When the Incubator-- Kyubey-- when it makes your Soul Gem, it's actually taking your soul out of your body and... um....” She looked around at the other people for help.

“Making it solid,” Mr. Urahara finished. “When crystallized, your soul can still control your body within a one hundred meter radius. It _is_ a focus as the Incubator explains, but the circumstances that make it so are far different from what it implies through lies of omission.”

Mami and Nagisa stared at the shopkeeper in numb horror.

 _Lies lies lies lies lies_ , Mami's mind echoed. She started shaking her head again.

Madoka's warm hands squeezed theirs again, prompting them to look at her. She smiled at them lovingly. “You're still _you_ , no matter where your soul is. Never forget that.”

Fresh tears spilled down Mami's cheeks. “Kyubey-- Kyubey did-- _what?!_ ”

“It tricks girls into a deal with the devil,” Sayaka said lowly.

“Why?!” Mami demanded.

“We know some of its reasons for doing it that way and know what it _claims_ its end goal is, but we have doubts about that,” Urahara said plainly. Vaguely. As if that could ever be a satisfying answer! Seeing her face, he added, “One of its stated purposes is for the body to become far more durable as a measure to have more contractees survive battle. Among other reasons.”

“What reasons?!” Mami demanded as she angrily scrubbed tears from her face. “Tell me!”

“Not until you have had time to process and accept this,” Homura's voice said quietly behind her.

Mami turned and looked at the door. Homura stood in the dim hallway just outside it, face impassive. Hitsugaya was eyeing her over his shoulder warily.

“Why not?!”

Homura pushed her hair over her shoulder. “Too much information at once will overwhelm you. You are already overwhelmed. Hearing something worse so soon--”

“Worse?!” Mami demanded.

Homura sighed. “Worse. You need to... regain your balance before the next step so you do not crack. Like the other girls. I do not want to fight you.”

Mami felt her chest tighten with contrary anger. “What makes you think I'll react like those other girls? I'm not them!”

Homura stared at her, face disturbingly devoid of emotion and eyes far away for a minute before she pursed her lips, then frowned. She did not answer.

“You don't know me!” Mami added hotly.

The other magical girl's frown did not change, but her magic snapped taut with bitterness. “Exactly.”

Mr. Urahara drew breath to speak, but Sayaka beat him to it. “She's trying to protect you, Mami. She doesn't _know_ you'll flip out, but she wants to be careful because she doesn't want the same bad things to happen to you like what happened to the other girls she told flat-out.” Sayaka shifted her gaze to Homura. “Right?”

Homura reverted to a blank slate and looked away.

Sayaka tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, then looked to Mami. “She's had to kill other magical girls in self-defense. She once told us--”

Mami's heart leapt into her throat.

Dizzying magic flickered with outrage. “ _Miki. Stop._ ”

Sayaka favored Homura's hiss with a nervous but unrepentant glance, then looked to Mami again. “Her first team leader went nuts and broke a teammate's Soul Gem and tried to break Homura's--”

“ _Miki!_ ”

“--But another teammate stopped the leader. By breaking _her_ Soul Gem first.”

Nagisa whimpered. Mami gaped in horror. “You-- you're not-- that didn't--” She whirled and looked at Homura with heartbroken desperation. “That's not-- have-- Did you? Did that happen? When you said-- when you said you'd been ambushed, did you-- k-kill them?! Did-- did that leader-- your _friend_ ambushed you?!”

Homura stared blankly, neither confirming or denying, until Hitsugaya sighed and said, “Yes. Her friend was the first one. She's had to kill others in self-defense after trying to help them. Always after a despairing magical girl either tried to destroy her Soul Gem-- or succeeded at destroying others. But sometimes....” He paused, mulled over his phrasing, looked at Homura out of the corner of his eye, then looked at Mami with direct eye contact. Hitsugaya quietly finished, “Sometimes, the magical girls kill themselves instead. Shatter their own Soul Gems. Often right in front of her. Or even me, once.”

Wide-eyed, Mami looked at Homura, who met her eyes coldly then looked away yet again. “One must put down rabid dogs, no matter how gentle they were before the illness made them vicious and dangerous,” she said to the wall.

“No matter how _loved_ ,” Madoka said slowly.

Homura did not look at her. “It is the safe and merciful thing to do,” she finished without inflection.

Mami shook. “S-so magical girls are dogs now?! Even your friends?!”

Homura slanted her eyes at Mami, face hard. “You deliberately misunderstand. This is why I release information slowly: To prevent irrational reactions like yours from cascading into disaster. It does no one any good. Perhaps blissful ignorance would suit your soft sort best.”

Mami clenched her fists and opened her mouth to retort, but Sayaka beat her. The girl loudly blabbed, “Stranger Danger's doing that thing where she's way too damn blunt and rude and mean because she's worried.” She turned to Homura. “Because you _care_ about Mami getting hurt. Like when you snapped at me about Kyōsuke to keep me from being dumb and getting hurt because you knew what it's like to be on the other side of the thing I was gonna do and how bad it could go. And how brutally honest you were when you talked to me 'n Madoka about contracting. You can be a stone-cold _bitch_ when you're worried about someone.”

“Sa—Sayaka, um--” Madoka tried to interrupt, looking like someone trying to figure out how to stop two trains from colliding at full speed.

“You use words to smack sense into people when you think they're gonna do something that gets them hurt,” Sayaka continued. “You don't care about hurting feelings as long as the person you're worrying about stays safe. Mami just doesn't know that's how you roll.” Homura scowled at her fiercely. Sayaka leaned forward on her elbows, chin cupped in her hands as she looked at Homura like she was examining a puzzle and unhappy with some of the pieces. “I really like you, Stranger Danger, and _I'm_ blunt, too--”

“And _absolutely tactless_ ,” Homura spat.

“Yup. Got me there. But _you_ can be, too. Anyway, I think I _get_ how you roll. But I really don't think it's _healthy_.”

Mami noticed that Mr. Urahara was watching Sayaka with intense fascination. She glanced back at Homura and found the girl fuming, glaring at a wall with her arms crossed. Just in front of her, Hitsugaya was watching her over his shoulders with his eyebrows raised, seemingly waiting for Homura to reply. She did not.

 _Way too damn blunt and rude and mean because she's worried_ , Mami echoed in her head as the room remained tensely silent. _A stone-cold bitch when she's worried about someone. She uses words to smack sense into people when she thinks they're gonna do something that gets them hurt. She doesn't care about hurting feelings as long as the person she's worrying about stays safe._

Mami thought of the things Hitsugaya had said to her. _She plays her cards close to the vest until she's more certain about a person. She's had a hard time of things and has lost a lot of people. Once burned, twice shy. Roll with it when she gets bitter. Sometimes she gets cold and snappy to try to push people away if she gets spooked by how close she's allowed someone to get to her. There have been too many times when she has met other girls who learned some information and turned on her. Attacked her._

_Some people reject painful truths. Violently._

And Homura herself. _I have seen too many magical girls die._

Sayaka's eyes turned to Mami again. “She almost died trying to save you that first night, you know.”

Mami's brain stuttered to a halt. What.

“It was _terrible_ ,” Madoka said softly as she rubbed a thumb in soothing circles on Mami's hand. “She completely ignored the Witch and tried to get your Soul Gem back. But that girl-- that girl was--” Words failed her as her shoulders hitched with suppressed sobs.

“Homura was hard on Sōju's tail from the minute your Gem was stolen,” Sayaka said sharply. “Sōju lit the whole labyrinth on fire. It looked like Homura got close enough to grab your Soul Gem, but then Sōju slashed her throat open. There was blood everywhere. Then Sōju stabbed Stranger Danger straight through her face. All the way through her head. But she did her glowy purple magic thing and kept fighting and trying to get your Soul Gem back and wrecked Sōju as bad as Sōju hurt her. But things got... really messy and dangerous because Madoka and me lost your shield and got attacked by the Witch and Familiars. Sōju did... something really... really....” Her voice faltered and faded, face broken.

“Atrocious,” Mr. Urahara said softly.

Sayaka glanced at him gratefully. “To me and ran away. A weird... kinda spell, I guess? Homura had to-- had to attack me to help me. I-- I was like a rabid dog. I was gonna kill--” A gulp stalled her speech, but she forced herself to continue. “She had to-- she had to-- put me out of my--” Her lip quivered. “She didn't _want_ to h-hurt me. I know 'cause I remember her fa-ace. Sh-she was _crying_.” Tears spilled from her own eyes.

Homura startled, but the mask of indifference slammed back onto her face and she looked away again as everyone looked at her.

“But she did what she had to and I'm not mad at her,” Sayaka continued, trying to ignore her own shaking, fists clenched on the table. “Oh, and Hitsugaya came at the end and helped. Then Magic Man and Tessai took care of us.” She looked down. “They brought us all here and Homura-- Homura looked-- d-dead. And her Soul Gem was so dirty it was almost black and she almost tur--” She stopped herself. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she ignored them and looked up at Mami fiercely. “When-- when she finally recovered, though, she was _so angry_ and all she could think of was getting your Gem back. Getting _you_ back. She and Hitsugaya skipped school and wandered around hunting Sōju for _days_. They found her tonight and-- and--”

“We fought her,” Hitsugaya said, picking up the thread of the conversation, much to Sayaka's relief. “It got pretty brutal. Sōju used dirty tricks.”

Nagisa made small sounds as though trying to speak. When everyone looked at her, she was looking at Mami. “M-miss Homura and Mr. Hitsugaya saved me and Daddy and got hurt but they got your Gem back a-and fought really hard to save the other Soul Gems, too.”

“Other Soul Gems?” Mami said blankly.

“Miss Akemi and my nephew recovered forty-three Soul Gems in addition to your own,” Mr. Urahara said gravely. “Sōju was a magical girl hunter. Essentially a magical girl serial killer-kidnapper. She collected Soul Gems as trophies.”

Mami felt sick. Not only had Kyubey lied to her... in a way? ...but she had been hunted by one of her own.

...Like Homura had been ambushed or maybe hunted?

“We're getting a bit off topic, or ahead of ourselves,” Hitsugaya said in a businesslike manner. “The main thrust of it is Akemi is trying to help you, Tomoe. Graceless as she is at it.” He ignored his friend's glare. “And we're cooperating with her because she has the most experience with this kind of situation. Please be patient with her methods.”

“You... all know what she's keeping from me?” Mami asked.

“Except for Miss Momoe, yes,” Mr. Urahara said frankly. “We want to be gentle with her, too.”

“I-- I want to know,” Nagisa said hesitantly. “I want-- I want to be angry. Angry is better than....” She made vague hand gestures and looked down, tears in her eyes.

Madoka let go of Mami's hand and hugged Nagisa. “We'll tell you soon. Let this part settle first.”

Nagisa nodded and cuddled into Madoka.

“Kyubey should have told us,” Mami said quietly.

“Cueball should tell girls a _lot_ of things,” Sayaka sneered. “But then a lot wouldn't contract. Little creep's like a magical used car salesman.”

Mami's bitter laugh surprised her. She covered her mouth with a hand and stared at her teacup. After a minute of thought, she took a breath and asked, “What was his-- its-- real name, again?”

“Incubator,” Mr. Urahara said solemnly.

“Incubator,” Mami echoed. She would have to use that name now. It was like her friendly mascot Kyubey had died and been replaced by a swindler. Except the swindler had been there all along. New tears sprung to her eyes. Her most steadfast companion since her parents died was using her somehow. All the good times were lies. How naive was she, really? A memory rose unbidden: Her mother closing a storybook, raising a finger, winking, and announcing the moral of the story to her when she was six-ish: _Be careful what you wish for._

 _I really am an idiot_ , Mami thought.

Everyone stayed respectfully silent as she calmed herself and thought. Eventually, she took a deep breath and asked, “So what happened after I... was knocked out?”

“Let's get more comfortable,” Madoka declared. She shifted closer to the table, tugging Mami and Nagisa with her, and glanced over her shoulder. “Homura, Hitsugaya, come sit.”

Homura looked sulky as Mami dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose with a tissue given to her by Mr. Tsukabishi. “I am fine here.”

Madoka frowned. “Please don't do this, Homura,” she said in a disappointed tone. Raising an arm and scooting closer to Mami to make a space between herself and Nagisa, she beckoned and said, “I want you to sit by me, Homura. Please?”

Homura huffed and grudgingly stepped forward. Mami wanted to know why Hitsugaya looked so amused as he stepped up behind his friend. She wondered if he had been back there to keep an eye on Homura. No. Homura hadn't been in the room. Mami scanned the room again now that she was more coherent, plotted everyone's positions when she woke... Hitsugaya had been blocking the exit and watching _her_. She was going to have to think about what that implied later.

The story Madoka and Sayaka laid out about what had happened in the carousel labyrinth made Mami sick. If she had been in top form, Sōju could never have cast whatever horrible monster spell she had on Sayaka. She felt like she had failed them. “I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let those TV screens... I shouldn't have let them affect me so.”

Homura sighed and spoke for the first time in the story. “That is not your fault. You were taken by surprise by your worst memories.” She crossed her arms and bitterly said, “I should have warned you when I spoke to you after I destroyed her Familiar's labyrinth.”

“Her?” Mami asked, rubbing a tear away with a knuckle.

“The Witch,” Homura said.

“Oh.” That was... odd. She called Kyubey-- the Incubator-- _it_ and Witches _she_ and _her_. It was backwards from what Mami was used to. Something else to ponder. Mami set it aside and looked around. “What happened after the labyrinth?”

The way they had searched for days touched her. Hitsugaya took over the narrative when they got to the other labyrinth and everyone paid closer attention-- if Mami understood correctly, no one but Hitsugaya and Homura knew everything that had happened within. Nagisa's explanation of how she got there broke Mami's heart. Then Hitsugaya's description of the encounter with Sōju chilled Mami's blood.

Into the silence that followed the revelation of sister Gems, Mr. Urahara pondered, “Miss Akemi. When Sōju cobbled herself together in the carousel, you said you saw white magic instead of red, correct? That her costume was both red and white? And that she healed far more rapidly than you expected?”

“Yes.”

Mr. Urahara tilted his head in thought and scratched his chin. “I wonder if that was a function of having two Soul Gems healing their shared body at the same time.”

Mami found herself blinking and considering that-- the concept of Soul Gems being separate and attaching to bodies was still new and nauseating to her, but it made sense. She looked to Homura's speculative face. “It... sounds plausible,” Mami slowly said to her.

“Yes,” Homura murmured.

They looked back to Mr. Urahara, who was staring intensely at the air just above his fingers as they drummed the table. They let him think until he gestured for Hitsugaya to continue. Mami breathlessly listened to his description of Luca's madness and hostage-taking. Her heart cracked with his voice when he told of how he had accidentally broken other Soul Gems. Then he got to Nagisa's reappearance.

“ _Never_ do anything like that _ever again_ ,” Homura suddenly interrupted the story to hiss at Nagisa next to her. “When you are told to get out of a battle, you _get out of that battle_.”

Nagisa looked frightened. “B-but--”

“We could have killed you by accident, thinking you were safe when you were behind the enemy,” she snarled. “The enemy could have taken you hostage. You could have destroyed a plan of attack. You--”

“ _Akemi!_ ” Hitsugaya snapped.

“Y-you needed my help!” Nagisa cried. “I he-helped!”

Everyone gaped at Homura's flash-bang anger. “We had it under control! We had a plan! We are lucky your reappearance did not defeat it. _This time_. Next time may be different. _Never do that again!_ ”

“I'm s- _sor_ -ry,” Nagisa sobbed.

“You--!”

_Boom!_

“Hey! Knock it off, Homura!” Sayaka finally snarled, slamming her hands on the table. “She gets it! You don't have to bite her head off!”

All of Homura's magic seemed to abruptly retract into her and leave a cold void in the room as her face went pale and haunted then horribly, utterly blank. Her eyes were wide and empty, unfocused though she was looking at Sayaka. Flat violet turned to Mami. And stared. And turned to Nagisa. And stared. And Mami. And stared. Like she was seeing ghosts in a nightmare.

Disturbed, Mami reached for her. “Miss Ake--”

Homura scrambled to her feet disjointedly and charged out of the room without a word.

Everyone stared. Sayaka blurted, “What the hell was  _that?_ ”

Mr. Urahara sighed, took off his hat, and tiredly scrubbed a hand through his sandy hair. “That was Miss Akemi substituting anger for fear and concern, then having a flashback.” He looked at Nagisa and gently said, “I apologize. She is concerned for your safety and _terrible_ at expressing it. She had a good point but she attacked you unnecessarily. I will talk with her about that later.” Once Nagisa tearfully nodded at him, he looked around at everyone.  “Please _never_ use that figure of speech around Miss Akemi.”

“What?” Madoka asked blankly, arms wrapped around Nagisa.

“ _Bite her head off_ ,” Mr. Urahara explained. “ _Do. Not._ Say that around her.”

“Why not?” Sayaka snapped, face defiant. “That's what she was doing!”

Hitsugaya sighed and carefully said, “Akemi saw a Witch literally bite the head off one of her original team members then eat the body.” He gave Mami a contemplative glance, then softly added, “That girl was blonde. Like you, Tomoe.”

Nagisa cried harder as the older girls all reacted with silent horror.

“When I was in the labyrinth, I saw... Well, it was all really jumbled, but I saw the TV screens,” Sayaka babbled, eyes wide and face pale. “After Homura came. There were lots of screens with magical girls dying. And getting ripped up and burned and-- I think. I wasn't super close. And Gems exploding. And blood and Witches. And-- and--” She dragged her hands down her face. “Stranger Danger said they showed Mami's worst memories... before. Were those-- were those _hers?_ ”

“Most likely,” Mr. Urahara sighed. “She has extensive emotional scars. She has seen--”

“--Too many magical girls die,” Mami said with him, voice distant as she considered her reflection in the surface of her cold tea. She was thinking of every encounter she had ever had with Homura. “I think... she's starting to make sense to me,” she murmured. Mami looked up at Mr. Urahara from under her bangs. “She blames Kyu-- the Incubator for it all, doesn't she?”

Mr. Urahara's mouth curled in a grim smile; he seemed to be pleased that she understood. “Can you fault her for it?”

Mami looked down again. “No.”

After another awkward silence, Madoka said, “Should-- should someone go after Homura?”

“I'll see if she's still in the building,” Mr. Tsukabishi said as he stood. “If she left, we may not find her unless she allows herself to be found, though.”

“If she's here, I think the only person who could get near her anytime soon would be Miss Kaname,” Mr. Urahara began.

“Eh? Me?!” Madoka blurted, pointing at herself in surprise.

Sayaka gave her a brittle smile. “Dunno if you've noticed, but she actually _listens_ to you when she's messed up.”

Madoka looked around at the others who had agreement written all over their faces. “W-what? But-- Me?”

Mr. Urahara chuckled, then continued. “If she left the shop... well, if she's not back in an hour, we'll have to track her down and haul her back.”

“She's tricky,” Hitsugaya warned.

Mr. Urahara smiled tightly. “You say that as though I am not tricky myself.”

Hitsugaya snorted halfheartedly.

After a deep breath, Mr. Urahara smacked his fan on the table. “And then you beat Sōju with teamwork, defeated the Witch, and woke Sleeping Beauty. The End. Now that we're all up to speed and it's late, I think you girls need to rest. I'll have Tessai bring you some food. Then I want you all to sleep. Come morning, we'll deal with Mr. Momoe. Tōshirō, I'll hit you with some more healing before I send you out after Miss Akemi.”

“Joy,” Hitsugaya deadpanned.

Mami thought he didn't actually seem annoyed. He had the wrong kind of frown.

“Then I have some things to do.” Mr. Urahara did that vague wave of his fan again. It felt like so long ago that he had done it before the big debriefing. “I want Miss Kaname and Miss Miki to go home early tomorrow. They've been away from home with weak excuses too often this week. We don't need their parents worried.”

Mami watched with interest as Mr. Urahara healed Hitsugaya's arm while they waited for Mr. Tsukabishi to bring food. Nagisa crawled into her lap, so Mami held her loosely as the girl sniffled. Madoka and Sayaka bracketed them in on either side. Hitsugaya gave them weird looks.

“Wow,” Sayaka said blankly when Hitsugaya's uncle unbuttoned his shirt to poke at a bandaged chest wound with a glowing hand, not bothering to unwrap the bandage.

“What?” the boy finally snapped. He coughed roughly.

“Ahhh, your lung,” Mr. Urahara moaned. “Don't ruin my work!”

“Heal faster, then,” Hitsugaya grouched.

“You have muscles,” Sayaka observed. Loudly. Everyone looked at her. “I know guys who'd kill for abs like that.”

Hitsugaya flushed and looked away. Mami and Madoka gave her death glares for lack of tact, blushing themselves. Sayaka squawked and slapped a hand over her mouth as her brain registered what she had said. Mami turned back to Hitsugaya, who seemed more concerned-- irritated-- that his uncle was giggling at him.

“If you tell Matsumoto or K-ikyo, I will _gut_ _you_ ,” Hitsugaya snarled at his uncle.

“Worth it,” Mr. Urahara immediately declared.

They were deep in familial bickering when Mr. Tsukabishi brought the girls their food. Even when they left, the mood was a bit lighter in their wake.

§ x § x §

Meanwhile in Asunaro, a real girl who believed she was a puppet _thought_ she got revenge on a selfish Gepetto, but she was actually gloating over the death of her Blue Fairy.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WITCH DATA  
> ROBERTA: The Birdcage Witch. Her nature is rage. She continuously stamps her feet inside her cage, directing her rage at those who do not respond to her. This Witch is extremely fond of alcohol, and her minions are also easy to burn.
> 
> Minion: GOTZ  
> The Birdcage Witch's minion. His duty is to act with frivolous indiscretion. These birds that swarm together are idiotic men. Even though they are total good-for-nothings, they try to attract her attention by swarming around her feet and attempting to woo her. They are nothing more than objects of disgust to the Witch.
> 
> § x § x §
> 
> A/N: So I have just realized that Witch Kirsten is basically a digital Dementor.
> 
> Google “homura vs witch roberta” to briefly see the labyrinth (also the scene when Homura gives up on allies as unreliable and determines “I won't rely on anyone anymore; I will never need anyone to understand me again; I won't let Madoka fight; I'll destroy every last witch by myself if I have to,” coincidentally); also, the Madoka wiki has a lot of detailed notes on the labyrinth that didn't make it into the actual show. Roberta was a magical girl who survived into her 20s-30s, thus the booze and men.


	59. ACHTUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In my master file for this story, including page breaks and author's notes, this chapter begins on page 600. 0.79” margins, single spaced, 12pt Times New Roman. I have never had a file this long. I created a monster and y'all just keep feeding the beast.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**ACHTUND FÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Tōshirō ate slowly while seated on a veranda facing the property's inner courtyard, koi pond, and pigeon coop. Akemi hadn't been in the shop. Whether or not it was consciously done, they had felt Akemi pull her reiatsu into herself and conceal her existence with the skill of an experienced lieutenant before she stormed off. Finding her manually would be a pain. Urahara had said to leave her to cool down for an hour while he tried to track her between phone calls. He didn't say what kind of calls, just whisked away into his labs. Great.

So Tōshirō bided his time and watched the moon. He reflected that things had gone better than expected-- well, mostly-- until Akemi got surprised-- spooked-- by protectiveness for a magical girl she'd never met before and Miki opened her damn fool mouth and said the absolute worst thing she could possibly say in the company of that particular magical girl. He had thought the upset magical girl they might have to hunt down would be Tomoe, not Akemi.

Not that he could blame Akemi. His breath still hitched sometimes if he approached his sister from behind at a certain angle, briefly reminding him of how he had been tricked into stabbing her in the back during the Winter War. There had been a lot of running off to his training cave to gather his wits after a flashback in the first several months after Aizen's defeat, especially if he encountered the word _backstabber_. So Tōshirō didn't begrudge Akemi her retreat. But Hyōrinmaru had been with him to help him work out the mental knots when he had been in the same place. Akemi didn't have that. It worried him.

Urahara clattered out onto the veranda in his geta an hour or so later. He stood solemnly as Tōshirō tilted his head and eyed him.

“I've tracked her down.”

“How far?”

“Surprisingly, just downtown. At an altitude that matches the tallest building for kilometers.”

Tōshirō turned to look south, but the wall of the compound blocked any view. “ _Tch_. So she likes high spaces, huh?” he mused.

“So it seems,” Urahara agreed. “Go talk her into coming back here. I have a plan.”

Raising a brow, Tōshirō said, “Me?”

With a self-deprecating smile, Urahara drily said, “I don't know if you noticed, but to put it plainly: She doesn't trust me right now.”

Tōshirō rolled his eyes, looked away, and said, “I can't _imagine_ why.”

“I am quite aware it's because I unexpectedly invaded her space and am vague with her about my plans and actions.” Urahara looked up at the moon pensively. “I wonder if she has worked out that I'm being as cautious with information with her as she has been with Miss Tomoe.”

“Maybe,” Tōshirō said. “Even so, she'll probably still hate it.”

“Indeed.” Urahara laughed lightly; fondly, he added, “She's quite the fierce little spitfire under the surface, isn't she? Fights to the death to keep control.”

“Reminds me of you,” Yoruichi Shihoin's human female voice said smugly.

“Pardon?” Urahara said as he and Tōshirō both turned to see her pad out of the dark of a hall, barefoot.

And naked.

Tōshirō screeched and whirled away, face aflame.

“Why the _hell_ are you naked when you transform?!”

“Because it's funny,” Shihoin said with a smirk in her voice.

He twitched in outrage. “Do you mean to say you don't _have_ to be naked when you transform?!”

Shihoin laughed. “Nope. It's just fun this way.” She tried to step within his line of sight. Tōshirō reeled away and covered his eyes, making her laugh more. “Ahahaha, such a modest boy!”

“He was quite modest when the girls were admiring his figure earlier, too,” Urahara trilled like an old gossip.

Tōshirō squawked his outrage. “They weren't _admiring--!_ ”

“I saw, I saw! Adorable! Is it on the surveillance tape?”

Urahara giggled behind his fan. That meant _yes_.

“ _You're worse than Matsumoto!_ ” Tōshirō hissed.

Shihoin and Urahara merrily laughed like the trickster devils they were.

“Gimme your haori, Kisuke. Before we have to haul Captain Hitsugaya to Tessai to be revived.”

Tōshirō shuddered. He had heard _stories_.

“The girls?” Urahara asked over the rustling of cloth.

“Asleep. Passed right out, poor kids.” Her voice mockingly high, she sang, “I'm decent now, Caaaptain!”

Tōshirō swore to God Matsumoto must have taught her that shameless crow of triumph-masquerading-as-innocence. It was pitch perfect. He shuddered again. And here he thought this mission would be a break from Matsumoto's antics.

“Now, don't play ignorant and try to divert me, Kisuke,” Shihoin drawled. She crossed her arms but lifted one hand to lazily point at Urahara. “You and Akemi are locking horns because neither of you likes being out of control of a situation. You both hate being out of the loop. You both want to know everydamnthing, but you both hoard knowledge like magpies with shiny objects. Neither of you likes sharing your toys.”

“Guilty as charged, I suppose,” Urahara said wryly.

Tōshirō kneaded the space above his eyes, trying to stave off a headache. “She's young and hurt and not as cooperative as we really need her to be, but she is a _vital_ ally. You need to include her more if you don't want her to completely ignore us if she turns time back again.”

“When.”

“What?”

“Not if,” Urahara said. “When.”

Tōshirō eyed him suspiciously. “All told, so far this time around has been... wild, but generally better than previous times she's described. Kaname is horrified by the prospect of contracting and with all of us around, seems likely to survive past the turnback point. Miki isn't... self-destructive this time. Seems very sharp, actually. Tomoe hasn't lost her mind. Yet.”

“Yes.”

“And you still think she'll go back?”

“Yes.”

“Based on what?”

“Oh, a variety of things,” Urahara said vaguely, waving his fan. He yelped as Shihoin kicked his shin.

“You're doing it again, jackass,” the woman snapped.

“Does it matter, though?” When they glared at him, Urahara sighed and said, “Various character assessments and observations. Interactions. Reactions. Since last time's apocalypse, I think Akemi _understands_ that the only way Kaname will be safe is if we completely eliminate the Incubator. There's no way we can learn enough to accomplish that in the next three weeks. If she stays beyond the turnback point, we have no idea whether we'll lose the strategic advantage of her time travel. Akemi just hasn't _acknowledged_ it yet.”

“Knowing her, she'll fight it to the end,” Shihoin muttered. “Especially with how she's let herself get attached to Miki again. Ugh, and I pushed her toward that.” She rubbed her face and heavily said, “I'm concerned for her mental health. Now, let alone if she erases all of this and goes back. She already has, what, at _least_ four extra years of the same set of things happening behind her? And this loop has been so different that it's rocking her world. Strange as it seems, the sheer _sameness_ could have become a kind of safety-- stability. We've helped her shatter that without really thinking of the effect it would have on her. It worries me.”

Urahara plopped down on the edge of the veranda with a gusty sigh of his own and swung his legs. “I wouldn't say I hadn't thought of how it would affect her. Our original plans were moving nicely before the Sōju factor. But _we_ got lulled into trusting the sameness that Miss Akemi had grown accustomed to and it bit us.” He rubbed his face and sounded frustrated. “As useful as the items recovered from Sōju will be for my research, I'm quite furious with her for appearing. Given the little psychopath's newness, I'm making an educated guess that the Incubator aimed Sōju at Akemi somehow. As a bonus, this all stalled my research for _days_.” His mouth turned down sourly. “Akemi was progressing so _well_ until that spanner got tossed in the works. That brat took a hammer to so many of Akemi's vulnerabilities that I lost count. And we probably don't know the full extent. So much progress--” he gestured with his hand as though scattering smoke-- “and back almost to where we started in the last timeline.”

“No taser this time,” Shihoin said with dark humor.

Urahara barked out a laugh. They were quiet for a time, absorbing moonlight and considering their own thoughts.

“So what's your idea for evening her keel again, Mr. Know-it-all?” Shihoin finally drawled.

Urahara flopped on his back on the wooden slats, folded his hands behind his head, and smiled up at them. “The same thing that broke the ice last time, of course: The Kurosaki Effect.”

§ x § x §

Tōshirō did find Akemi perched atop the tallest tower in the city, which was a pain to access in gigai. The tower was _ridiculously and pointlessly tall_ , really, but humans were the sort to build something ridiculous just to prove they could. When Akemi was in sight, Tōshirō loosed his control on his reiatsu as a warning he was coming. She didn't react. At least she didn't stop time and disappear.

He dropped to the metal catwalks beneath radio dishes and antennas, tucked his hands in his pockets, and carefully approached the girl. She was sitting with her back to a thick column, legs held tightly against her chest with her arms curled around her shins, chin neatly tucked into the space between her knees. The wind whipped her hair around, but she didn't seem to care. He had expected tears or tear tracks, but Akemi's face was dry and her face stony. She didn't react to his presence.

Tōshirō looked out at the twinkling fairy lights of the city. “Nice view.”

Nothing. Long silence.

He looked up at the spire that continued far above them. “The living build the strangest tall things.”

Nothing. Long silence.

“From this high up, the city lights kind of look like stars.”

“Stars are better.” Dull and barely audible. Well, it was something.

“You like stars?”

“Yes.”

“So do I. Though I prefer the moon.”

“Mm.”

More silence. Tōshirō shifted uncomfortably. “Mind if I sit with you?”

Akemi just shrugged, so Tōshirō sat beside her and inspected stars and city lights. He waited her out.

“They hate me now,” Akemi said dully to the open air in front of her.

Not a question. Stated as fact. She expected nothing else.

“They do not,” Tōshirō said without looking at her. If she could speak better without making eye contact, he wasn't going to spoil it.

“I am strange, angry, and do not act their age.”

He didn't bother arguing that, because it was obviously true. Denying it would insult her intelligence. “They're understanding _why_ , though. We're helping them understand why, as much as we can without giving everything away. So they're far more worried for you than angry.”

“Hmm.” Doubtful.

“I won't lie and say you didn't hurt Momoe, because you did. But she understands the intent behind it. More than I would expect of someone so young, actually. Forgives it.”

“That does not erase what I said.”

Tōshirō was glad that she understood that. Too many people did not understand that good intentions and forgiveness were not a free pass from consequences. He hadn't particularly expected petulance from her in the first place, though. “No, it doesn't. But it tempers the blow. They're better prepared to call you out more productively. You recognize that you were in the wrong. And you'll rein yourself in better next time.”

“Will I?” Akemi asked darkly.

He tilted his head back and looked for the North Star. “I have faith that you will.”

Akemi snorted derisively. “ _Faith_.”

“You could use some.”

“Faith in _what?_ ” Her voice dripped with scorn. “Some kind of god?”

“Yourself, for starters. Your allies, for another.”

Silence.

Tōshirō wondered if Venus was visible at that hour and let his gaze idly wander the sky looking for it while Akemi mulled that over.

“How am I to have faith in myself or my allies if those allies treat me like a child?”

Tōshirō laughed, low and bitter. He couldn't help it even though he could sense the cooled embers of her anger warming again. It seemed they had more in common than he had realized. “Have you seen what I look like lately? I _still_ get treated like a child at times. By my fellow captains, even. My equals. I _finally_ had a bit of a growth spurt in the last two years so I don't look like an elementary-schooler anymore, but I still don't look like a forty-seven-year veteran shinigami twenty-six years into his captaincy over a division of soldiers. I look like a fourteen-year-old captain of _a soccer team_. And a lot of people look at me and treat me that way when they _know_ better.”

Movement. He had actually surprised her into turning to look at him. He kept his eyes on the sky. Hyōrinmaru helped him order his thoughts. Getting deeply personal was something he usually had to be dragged into kicking and screaming, but if there was anything he could contribute to Homura Akemi's strategically crucial stability, he'd gladly give it. No matter how uncomfortable it made him.

“My lieutenant had faith in me _long_ before I had faith in myself,” Tōshirō said slowly, turning the words in his mouth as he turned them in his thoughts. “The circumstances under which I took the haori were... distressing and unconventional. I was very young, especially for a shinigami. The responsibility may have crushed me without my lieutenant. Matsumoto is _terrible_ at paperwork and an unrepentant slacker but she is frighteningly motivational, protective, and loyal. Having someone that cheerful and enthusiastic pour endless faith in you... it goes a long way. Then when they finally kick some sense into you and demand you have faith in yourself... well.” A nostalgic smile curled his lips as he remembered a day some twenty-four years back that involved an after-action debriefing gone miserable and Matsumoto with her hands on her hips, yelling at him in the same tone she had the day she found him in the market near his childhood home and scolded him for not standing up for himself.

Tōshirō turned to look at Akemi directly. She was looking at him like he was a puzzle. He gave her a wry smirk. “I'm not cheerful or enthusiastic like my lieutenant. But I have faith in you. That you will do everything in your power to improve, to study yourself, to be more stable. To protect Kaname. And I demand that _you_ have faith in _yourself_.”

She stared at him, lips parted in surprise. Completely still.

“For what it's worth, Shihoin and I are getting on Urahara's case about making you a more equal partner,” Tōshirō went on. “But you also have to realize that people like you and I-- people who have more life experience than we appear to have-- also do have _some_ tie to the age of our bodies. Our physical brains and their structure match our physical bodies, even though the demands we make of them are far more... mature. People like you and I constantly perform a mental balancing act. It helps to _understand_ what you're balancing instead of _denying_ it. That way, you can work with it enough for it to turn into an advantage. Even if it's just an avenue to release your stress. Getting over myself enough to stop denying that part of me was hard. Still can be. The more you learn how to do so, the more productive you'll be.”

Akemi tilted her head and looked at him speculatively for a long while, frowning in distaste. She turned her face back to the sky, so he did as well.

“A powerful shinigami captain whose life is composed of responsibilities deliberately acts like a child?”

“Indulges the childlike side, I guess,” Tōshirō said thoughtfully. He was uncomfortable talking like this with anyone but Karin, but... well, Akemi seemed to be in a similar place as he used to be. “I walk around the office in just my tabi sometimes. Sit on rooftops to watch the sky and sunset like I did with my sister when we were little. Get into watermelon seed spitting contests with her. I make time to visit Karin and play soccer or video games. That... outlet has actually proven to be vital in the last couple years.” He scrubbed at his hair and considered his point. “I have to behave more seriously than many of my colleagues to counter my young appearance and cultivate a professional reputation. It works. But I was also more uptight about it before I befriended Karin. I would, frankly, overreact to perceived slights to my capability to lead, fight, strategize. I still struggle with it. Karin says Yuzu is the people person but she zeroed right in on that and addressed it with as little tact as Miki used tonight.” He did not elaborate that Karin had broached the subject by declaring out of the blue that _we really need to talk about this stick up your ass, Tōsh_.

“I do not understand Miki this time,” Akemi said.

Tōshirō decided not to call her out for diverting the conversation. Let her think on it. “How so?”

“I always knew she was perceptive before she contracted and she usually is suspicious of me from an early point. I was used to that attention. Yet she seems to pay _more_ attention to me when she is not suspicious.”

“Less initial bias,” Tōshirō said. “I think she admires you this time. It's making her reason you out and actively try to see your actions positively. So maybe a kind of confirmation bias, as before, but for good instead of ill this time.”

“Hmm.”

After an easy silence between them, Tōshirō said, “Come back to the shop with me? Urahara has a surprise for you.”

“I have had enough of Urahara's surprises to last me a lifetime,” Akemi grumbled.

Tōshirō snorted. “I completely understand. But I promise this one should be pleasant.”

Akemi eyed him suspiciously, then slowly climbed to her feet. “I will hold you to that.” Then she stepped off the edge of the catwalk and fell.

Tōshirō rose and watched her, curious about her method of movement from so high. Interestingly, she was moving down at an angle in broad jumps off nothing, violet reiatsu flashing at her feet with each leap. It was similar to several flash stepping techniques he had seen. Urahara would probably like to know.

Taking a deep breath, Tōshirō forced his gigai into shunpo to catch up with her and bound across the rooftops toward Asunaro.

§ x § x §

Ichigo leaned against Urahara's giant reishi henkan-ki, which he still insisted looked like a stone window frame covered in haphazardly placed newspapers. He had his arms crossed and was drumming the fingers of one hand against his bicep, forcibly restraining his instinct to charge outside Urahara's freaky duplicate of the training room under his original shop and find Homura himself. Urahara, Yoruichi, and Tessai would probably bind him with ten kinds of kidō if he tried, though, citing not wanting to let the goddamn Incubator sense his reiatsu.

Fucking monster. Ichigo would gladly turn his Hollow loose on the thing. Things. Whatever.

 _Yesssss, please_ , the Hollow hissed eagerly as a child wanting to play with a toy. It was probably the first time Ichigo had ever heard him use the word _please_. Without sarcasm, anyway.

 _Eventually_ , Ichigo thought at him. _Hold your horses._

The Hollow projected frustrated, bloodthirsty impatience, but Zangetsu touched his presence and he settled back, purring and fantasizing about extreme violence. Ichigo left him to it and wondered what was taking Tōshirō so damn long to bring Homura back.

“You're really worried about this girl, aren't you?”

Ichigo glanced over at Rangiku Matsumoto, who was leaning on the other column of the reishi henkan-ki in a far more relaxed pose. One hand idly twirled a strand of strawberry blond hair around and between fingers, pale blue-gray eyes solemn despite her teasing tone. She hadn't been fully briefed, but had apparently been told enough to take the whole thing seriously.

“She's been through hell this week. Nearly died. I need to take her home,” Ichigo said in a clipped tone.

“Oooh, home?” Matsumoto looked curious as a cat, her lips curled in the satisfied smile of a busybody encountering juicy gossip. Those eyes were calculating, though. “Not _your house_ , just _home?_ ”

He looked away from her, reminding himself that she was sharper and more observant than she presented herself. Like his father. Birds of a feather, these Tenth Division officers. “Well, my old man _has_ declared her an honorary Kurosaki. She's like Karin and Yuzu. I need to protect her.” He scowled. “Urahara's _not letting me_ though. Pisses me off.”

“Big~ brother~ com~ plex~,” Rangiku sang.

Ichigo rolled his eyes.

Any retort was cut off by the arrival of Tōshirō and Homura's reiatsu. They descended into the training room behind Urahara. Homura moved warily, but Tōshirō briskly strode up and nodded greetings at them. “Matsumoto. Kurosaki.”

“I _missed_ you, Caaaptaaain!” Rangiku said loudly, clutching her hands in a dramatic pose next to one cheek. Ichigo had expected her to make one of her sudden rushes to hug her captain, but she kept to her place with an eye on Homura's suspicion.

“It hasn't even been a week, Matsumoto.”

“But do you know how much _paperwork_ builds up in a week?”

“Yes. I do,” Tōshirō said flatly. “You've been doing it, have you not?”

Rangiku laughed nervously. Tōshirō's brow twitched in anger.

“Lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto, I'd like to introduce you to Miss Homura Akemi,” Urahara interrupted loudly before the officers of the Tenth Division could get into one of their signature screaming matches.

Rangiku leapt on the change of subject and happily waved at Homura, who was hanging back by a boulder, watching them intensely. The lieutenant waved cheerfully. “Hello, Homura! Nice t--”

“Akemi,” Homura said coldly.

Rangiku, not missing a beat, laughed and looked at Tōshirō. “Is she your long-lost sister, Captain?” She giggled at the pained look on Tōshirō's face and turned back to the magical girl. “Okay A~ke~mi~! You can just call me Rangiku, though! Don't bother with the rank-- I'm not stuffy like Captain!”

Ichigo gave a short laugh at Tōshirō's expense, remembering the months of _It's Captain Hitsugaya to you!_ before the guy had mostly given up on him, but he kept his eyes on Homura. She was distant, somehow not present even though she was standing in the same room. Her expression was shuttered and unreadable. Considering the sobbing description Inoue had given of her Soul Gem and injuries when she had returned from her healing trip and Urahara's extensive reports about the events since, the term that kept crossing Ichigo's mind was _shell shock_.

Note to self: Tōshirō _owed him_ for marching out of the senkaimon in their apartment on Wednesday night and nailing him with that trippy sedation kidō to knock him out before he could even ask what had happened.

“Hey, Stopwatch,” Ichigo said gently.

Homura blinked owlishly at him.

“Come on, Homura.” He held out a hand. “Let's go home.”

She tilted her head and continued to stare at him, but did not correct his use of her name. That was a good sign. He hoped. Her eyes wandered to the gate behind him without returning the greeting.

Ichigo gestured at the weird thing with a casual wave. “This is a gate between worlds. Gramps gave special permission for you to use it to come to Karakura instead of taking the train.”

“Gramps?!” Tōshirō looked scandalized. “You refer to Captain-Commander Yamamoto as _Gramps?!_ ”

“Yeah. So?”

Tōshirō was going to have an aneurysm one of these days.

Homura moved closer, watching the gate as though something might pop out from the bright cloudiness within and grab her. “How does it work?”

Urahara looked at Ichigo, not moving any closer than he had been at his introduction. Ichigo wondered why he was staying the hell out of things. The scientist was usually in his element explaining things like this. He'd have to text Tōshirō later; for now, Urahara seemed to want Ichigo to do the talking.

Ichigo scratched his temple. “I dunno the technical sciencey stuff, but it's a door to a path through an in-between dimension from the World of the Living to Soul Society. Usually, it's just called a senkaimon and only spirits go through it, but this big ugly thing called a reishi henkan-ki lets living bodies like ours make the trip. Somehow. With magic spirit science.”

Urahara had specifically told him to come in his human body in casual clothes instead of spirit form in his shihakusho. Ichigo had an inkling of why when he caught Homura repeatedly eyeing Rangiku's uniform and the Tenth Division insignia on the lieutenant badge at its waist: They were cutting through the land of the shinigami full of people in shinigami uniforms and Ichigo would bet his badge that Urahara wanted to symbolically ram home that _Ichigo Kurosaki is not part of the military structure in Seireitei, just an ally with comparable powers and irreverence for their formalities_.

It pissed Ichigo off that he had to figure it out himself on the fly, but he could play that role.

“Anyway, we're going to Soul Society from here, then we'll turn right around and make a path to Karakura. It's faster than the train,” Ichigo finished as though the idea of dimension-hopping was boring.

“It also implies the Captain-Commander acknowledges your high value as an ally,” Tōshirō added gravely. When Homura turned to him with one brow raised, he added, “The Captain-Commander did not give permission for this convenience lightly. Travel to and from Soul Society by the living through an officially sanctioned gate into the heart of Seireitei is _extremely_ rare. Kurosaki and his friends were the first people in _ninety-seven years_ to be allowed such travel.”

Ichigo blinked in surprise. “What? Who came ninety-seven years ago?”

Tōshirō stonewalled him. “Classified.”

“You're no fun.”

“I'm professional.”

“Like I said: No fun,” Ichigo teased.

Tōshirō rolled his eyes, but looked like he understood Ichigo wasn't serious.

Homura watched their interactions solemnly, then turned back to Urahara. “Why are you sending me to Karakura?”

Urahara smiled slightly. “After the traumatic week you've had, you need rest. Calm. Where you don't have to worry about the Incubator stalking you. With people you don't have to hide your time travel or extensive knowledge from. A small vacation. I suggest you stay not just through Sunday, but Monday as well. You need to reset, so to speak. Start fresh.”

The magical girl scowled. “We do not have time for _vacations_.”

“We do, actually. Or, to be more precise, _you_ do.” Urahara held up his folded fan and counted off points on the fingers of his other hand with small taps. “The other girls will be hunkered down at home tomorrow. We will escort them safely. Hitsugaya will be their guard and escort at school. Tessai is making a protective charm for Miss Momoe, since her grasp of defense is far weaker than Miss Tomoe's. I plan to propose Miss Tomoe stay at the shop until you return so the Incubator can't get her alone. Or perhaps I will assign Yoruichi to stay with her. I'll wait to see what her mental state is before deciding on a course of action for her. I need to finish up my surveillance system for penetrating the barrier around Asunaro to collect data from within, then I have the Soul Gems and imitation Grief Seeds to study. Your presence is not strictly necessary for the next two days. Possibly three.” Urahara smiled more kindly. “Allow your allies to share your burden, Miss Akemi.”

“My _allies_ need to share more with _me_ ,” Homura retorted immediately.

And damn if Ichigo didn't empathize with that from the depths of his soul. He glared at Urahara in a gesture of support for the complaint. It was fucking valid. Playing the game was hard when someone hogged all the cards. Ichigo was spitefully pleased to note that even Tōshirō was giving Urahara the side-eye of judgment.

Rangiku remained pleasant-faced and silent, eyes darting from person to person as she drank in every detail of the encounter. Ichigo would _also_ bet his badge Tōshirō would be receiving a report of some kind with her outsider observations of the scene and the relationships implied therein. Despite their frequent bickering, they were a frightfully effective team.

Urahara's face sobered. He removed his hat and held it to his chest, then bowed slightly in implied apology. “So I have had it made clear to me by Yoruichi and Captain Hitsugaya. I will endeavor to be more open with you if you try to reciprocate with more cooperation yourself-- or at least actually share your objections to methods so we may negotiate in good faith.”

Homura's mouth twisted unhappily, but she glanced at Tōshirō and turned back to the reishi henkan-ki.

Returning his hat to his head, Urahara lowly said, “You could probably use a break from me, as well. Let us start over on Tuesday.”

In reply, he received a haughty glare over the magical girl's shoulder. Ichigo interpreted it as _Damn right I need a break from you, you shady bastard._ Well, Homura was far too prim to have those exact thoughts. But Ichigo got the gist of it. He understood why Sandal-Hat was keeping his distance now.

“Are we ready to go?” Rangiku asked with a bubbly smile, as though oblivious to everything that had just happened.

Homura looked at Ichigo. “You trust this thing?”

His real answer would be complicated so he just waved and said, “I've been through them lots of times.”

Her eyes narrowed. She noticed but didn't call him out on the dodge.

“All right! Here we go!” Rangiku cheered. Just before she stepped into the portal, she waved at Tōshirō and sang, “Bye, Captain! I'll forward you all the paperwork!” She slipped through the portal, laughing innocently as Tōshirō roared her name like he always did when she did something outrageous.

Laughing at Tōshirō, Ichigo turned to Homura with a smile. “Ready to go, Stopwatch?”

Homura straightened proudly, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and marched into the portal as though she'd done it a million times. Ichigo gave Urahara and Tōshirō a wry grin and followed her.

As usual, the Precipice World was creepy as hell. It was a dark, dank square hallway whose walls oozed with thick purple fluid. The defensive flow was frozen, however-- courtesy of special permission and preparations by Yamamoto's orders.

“Miss Akemi? Are you all right?” Rangiku asked.

Ichigo looked at Homura. She was standing rigidly with the strangest look on her face as she eyed her surroundings. Ignoring Rangiku's question, she lifted an arm in front of her and stared intensely at her hand. She flexed it several times, then turned it over and flexed it more. Like she was testing it.

“Miss Akemi?” Rangiku asked again.

No response. Homura looked down and flexed an ankle. Ichigo wondered if she was wiggling her toes inside her shoes.

Worried, Ichigo said, “Hey, Stopwatch. Talk to us.”

Homura looked up at him with a frown. “ _What_ did that do to my body?”

“Oh. Fuck. I should have explained that better,” Ichigo said, abashed. “That big square frame converts our living bodies into reishi-- uh, spiritual energy or something-- so we can pass into Soul Society-- a spirit place-- without separating from our bodies.” At her deepened frown, he said, “I've never really noticed anything. You feel different?”

“Yes.” Homura rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. “It is... not unpleasant. But it is very strange. Like... wearing new clothes.” She looked around. “This _place_ feels very strange.”

“Let's walk and talk,” Rangiku said. “Captain Ukitake is stabilizing the passageway at the other end and we shouldn't keep him waiting.”

Ichigo waved for Homura to walk with him as Rangiku led them. Homura hesitantly matched his steps and kept looking from him to Rangiku, who was swinging her arms and humming cheerfully-- faking airheaded obliviousness again. Ichigo casually strolled with his hands in his pockets. “So yeah, this place is really damn strange. A couple years back, my old man explained it's a bunch of spacetime mashed together and time passes like two thousand times faster in here than in any of the worlds outside.” An idea struck him. “I wonder if you actually notice the time difference because of your time magic?”

Homura looked surprised, then thoughtful. “I wonder.”

“I'd say to ask Urahara, but you seem to be on the outs with him.”

Her little huff of annoyance amused him. “He keeps things from me and has too many methods that involve surprising me.”

Ichigo laughed wryly. “Yeah, he's an ass like that. You know, back when he first became my mentor, he sent me a message summoning me to his shop by having some invention of his write the message on my wall in... well, it _looked_ like blood. Thought I'd jump out of my body without any assistance that time. Did it to the others, too.”

Homura gave him a look that somehow conveyed _incredulous_ and _complete lack of surprise_ at the same time. “Did Karin and Yuzu tell you about Mr. Monk?”

“Did they _ever_ ,” Ichigo said with a snort.

Frustrated, Homura growled, “Why is he like this?”

Ichigo scratched his temple. “I don't really know. Some kind of mild sadism? Whatever it is, at least he focuses it on pranks instead of conquering all the worlds and mentally wrecking people like Aizen did.” He saw her curiosity and decided to elaborate, remembering what others had said and what he had sensed during single combat with the narcissistic sociopath. “Aizen was a brilliant man, but so smart and so powerful and so alone-- by his own fault, I think, but no one noticed and derailed it-- that he killed his ability to relate to others. It... what's the phrase... withered on the vine. It twisted him until he thought his way was the only way and if the world didn't cooperate, he'd just have to rewrite the world from the top. He didn't have give and take with allies, he had subordinates who were disposable trash. He may have started out with a noble goal-- who knows, at this point?-- but he got so arrogantly twisted up in himself that he thought himself a god and the world his to play with as he willed.” Ichigo scrubbed his hand through his hair and struggled with words. “People with a lot of power, like me and the shinigami captains... we _need_ allies to relate to so we don't lose touch with reality and humanity, you know? Going it alone because you think you know everything and your way is best... it can mess with your head. I kinda think Urahara still wrestles with that. Yoruichi and Tessai notice and derail those moods, though. And at least Urahara is able to admit he has faults once they're thrown in his face.”

Homura frowned and turned away, her face looking like her thoughts were flashing through her mind at the speed of light. Ichigo decided to be quiet and let her think. He faced forward again and caught Rangiku peeking back over her shoulder at them just before she turned away.

A few minutes later, they saw a dull light in the distance. When they neared it, they were able to see Captain Ukitake standing in the middle of the passageway just inside a portal. He was tethered to the walls with four cords connecting his wrists to four forked blades in the walls. The white-haired shinigami smiled broadly. “I'm glad to see you made it back safely.” He nodded amiably at Homura. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Akemi. I am Jūshirō Ukitake, Thirteenth Division Captain. Mitakihara is my division's jurisdiction. I have been fully briefed.”

Homura eyed him warily, but gave him a polite nod.

The fatherly shinigami smiled even more warmly. “Come, go through the door. I'll drop this after you get out and exit behind you.”

Rangiku cheerfully bounced through the gateway. Homura eyed Ichigo with trepidation. “Is there anything I need to know about what is on the other side?”

Ichigo grinned, noticing in his peripheral vision that Ukitake also displayed amused interest before turning his head so his long hair disguised the curve of his mouth. “Nah, Stopwatch,” Ichigo said with a casual wave of his hand. “It's just a big white old-fashioned city.”

“There are four hooded guards, as usual,” Ukitake volunteered kindly. “They have orders to not approach you unless you try to go beyond the senkaimon platform.”

Homura eyed Ichigo in disapproval, obviously wondering if he had lied. He laughed nervously and said, “Sorry, I forgot. Those guys are like background scenery to me. Never heard them speak a word and they all look alike with their uniforms.”

The girl still looked wary, glancing between the captain and the gate as though gauging which was the larger risk.

Ichigo lay a hand on her shoulder. “C'mon, we'll go through together.”

He made a point of watching her face when they passed through the gate. Once through, she took a few steps and stopped. After looking at each of the four hooded guards with narrowed eyes, she visibly dismissed their presence like a queen ignoring servants. She swept her eyes around the courtyard they found themselves in, taking in the path of pale jade through the wide circle of gray marble that made the central senkaimon platform. Pairs of tall white obelisks with pyramidal tops were evenly spaced along the path's length. The round courtyard was encircled by a ring of shadowed sandstone arches. Every vertical surface hosted some kind of will-o'-th'-wisp kidō lanterns Ichigo never saw fixtures for in daylight. Everything was bathed in moonlight. Homura looked up at the night sky above with interest.

“There are stars in... Soul Society?” she asked quietly.

“Yep,” Ichigo said, enjoying her curiosity. “Dunno how that works, but it's pretty.”

“Hmm.”

“Welcome to Seireitei, Miss Akemi!” Rangiku chirped.

“Ah.”

The atmosphere shifted as the senkaimon closed behind them. Homura turned to look as Ukitake readjusted the four blades tethered to his wrists, preparing to redeploy them. He smiled up at Homura, who was now staring up at the gate they had come from. It was ridiculously tall, a roofed lintel atop two more white pillars. Deactivated, they could see through to the arches on the far side of the courtyard.

Ukitake smiled at Homura. “What do you think, Miss Akemi?”

The girl tilted her head and blinked at him, then looked around again. “It is very... geometrical.”

That captain laughed brightly. “And overly ceremonial and grandiose, my friend Shunsui would say.”

“As you say,” Homura murmured. Ichigo snickered at the girl's implied _damn right it is_ and watched her try to peer past the arches. She looked at Ukitake over her shoulder and politely asked, “May I look?”

“Of course. Just don't leave the platform,” Ukitake answered. He waved some kind of command to the guards, who stood down. Probably because an alert captain and lieutenant were present to subdue the girl if she made a break for it, Ichigo thought.

Their eyes followed her closely as she took measured steps across the tiles. Ichigo and Rangiku went with her. When they reached the edge, Homura was visibly stunned by how high they were. The tiny tile roofs of Seireitei were whitewashed by moonlight far below them.

“So, yeeeeeah, the old shinigami liked to build big-n-tall,” Ichigo drawled. “I don't even know why they decided this thing had to be up so high.”

“Hmph. And Hitsugaya said it is the _living_ who are strange for building such tall things.”

Surprised laughter burst from Rangiku's mouth. Ichigo grinned and fondly said, “As if that brat isn't always perching on the highest thing in sight.”

Homura frowned at him in disapproval. “Hitsugaya is not a brat. Considering him such is an insult to his character.”

Rangiku and Ichigo both blinked at her, nonplussed. They traded thoughtful glances. Ran looked like she sensed gossip. Ichigo suddenly wanted to ask Tōshirō a lot of questions. He was guessing Ran would be bombarding the guy with texts after her escort duty was complete. But what the hell was he supposed to say now? Did Homura not understand affectionate teasing?

...Actually, that might be it. Maybe?

“ _Everyone's_ a brat sometimes,” Ichigo ventured. “Even adults. I didn't mean it as an insult. Kind of a... term of endearment.” When she raised a judgey eyebrow at him, he held his hands up defensively and said, “Karin sometimes calls me Jerkface in a very loving way. Dad knows something's wrong if she doesn't call him Goat Face. And aren't you nicknamed _Stranger Danger?_ ”

“She's what?!” Rangiku gasped delightedly as Homura's cheeks colored.

“ _Where_ did you hear that?” she growled.

Ichigo grinned. “Karin.”

Homura's breath hissed through her teeth. Ichigo did not envy Karin.

“Excuuuse meee!” Ukitake called. When they turned back, he waved at them. “Terribly sorry, but we need to get going!”

Homura took one more long look at the city below, spun on her heel, and marched back to the senkaimon. When they met back up with Ukitake, Homura gave him a very formal if shallow bow and thanked him for allowing her to look.

“You are quite welcome, Miss Akemi,” the captain said with a smile. He looked to Rangiku and nodded at the empty gate. “Will you do the honors, Lieutenant Matsumoto?”

Rangiku cooed and hopped up to the gate, drew her zanpakutō, and stabbed it into the empty air. A swirl of light manifested, then flashed out to fill the entire doorway. She withdrew her sword and winked. “All ready!”

“I'll stabilize the path,” Ukitake said, approaching the gate. “Just a moment.”

Rangiku stepped forward immediately. Homura said, “Wait--”

Ichigo ruffled her hair. “Time's like two thousand times faster in there, remember? One second out here is two thousand seconds in there. So now he's been in there for like half an hour from his perspective.”

“Probably a couple hours _now_ ,” Ran chirped. “Come on!”

When they entered, Ukitake was humming cheerfully, utterly serene while tethered to the solid gloom. He smiled at them and nodded. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Akemi. I hope to see you again soon.”

Homura paused, eyed him carefully, then offered him another shallow bow. Respectful, but not fawning or submissive. “Likewise.”

The rest of their journey was quiet save for Rangiku singing under her breath as though bored. This time, Ichigo watched Homura inspecting the walls, ceiling, and floor as they walked. She was obviously deep in thought and fascinated. He'd have to text Urahara and get the dick to find a reason to give her information about the Precipice World as a peace offering or something.

And then they were at the end doorway, walking through another portal into the identical Karakura original of the Mitakihara training room. This one hosted Ichigo's family, Isshin standing behind the girls with his hands on their shoulders as they anxiously waited for Homura's arrival. Rangiku closed the reishi henkan-ki behind them as Yuzu cried out and ran forward.

“Homura! You're all right!” Yuzu cried as she hugged Homura fiercely. “We were so worried!”

Homura initially showed no reaction to the hug, but one hand came up to rest on Yuzu's back as Ichigo's sister continued to sob her relief into Homura's shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, looking at a loss for what to say.

Isshin and Karin approached more slowly. Karin looked at Homura up and down as though checking for injuries, then stepped closer and croaked, “Hey, Yuz, my turn.”

Yuzu pulled back and wiped her face on her sleeves repeatedly as Karin leaned in for a brief but tight hug and weakly joked, “Tales of your badassery are going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

Ichigo thought back to the morning a pale-faced and shaken Inoue had shuffled out of the miniature reishi henkan-ki Urahara had installed in their apartment, taken one look at Ichigo, and started bawling. He remembered his mounting horror as Inoue recounted what she had seen; remembered the additional horror of Urahara's update later in the day, which included something akin to a coroner's report diagramming Homura's wounds with far too many of the injuries on the attached list followed by _(fatal)_ ; thought of the new report they had received just before Rangiku showed up to ferry him to Mitakihara....

Yeeeaaahhh, he agreed with Karin. He glanced at his father and found silent agreement.

Isshin was watching Homura, face lined with regret and worry. When Karin stepped back, he held out a hand in invitation. “Come on, Homura. Let's go home.”

Homura hesitated, face conflicted, then gave a tentative nod. Isshin smiled broadly. After watching him for a moment, she did an about-face and looked at Rangiku, who was leaning on the reishi henkan-ki and twirling her hair through her fingers again while smiling at Homura. The magical girl gave her the same shallow bow she had given Ukitake and politely said, “Thank you for escorting us, Lieutenant Matsumoto.”

Rangiku's smile widened. “You're welcome!” Pushing off from the column, she said, “I'll get going and let you all go _home_.” She briefly glanced at Ichigo with a twinkle in her eye, then looked away, stepped to one side of the giant frame, and stabbed her zanpakutō into the empty air. When she turned it like a key, the air swirled and a pair of shoji panels appeared inside a circular hole in reality. The doors slid open. Across an undefinable space like a waiting room, a second set of shoji panels slid open to bright light. A black butterfly darted out and danced around Rangiku's head.

Homura blinked surprise. “A butterfly?”

Rangiku lifted a hand and offered a finger as a perch for the delicate creature. “This is a _Hell_ Butterfly!”

Homura stared flatly. “...Hell.”

Rangiku laughed. “They got that name thousands of years ago when not even shinigami knew much about anything and it just kinda stuck. They just carry messages and guide spirits from one world to the other without getting lost in the Precipice World. Shinigami traveling without non-shinigami guests don't have to worry about the Precipice World. Our little buddies and our fancy gate let us skip all that.”

“But... how do _butterflies_ do that?”

Ichigo grinned. Her confusion was adorable.“I dunno, Stopwatch. The spirit world is really damn weird sometimes.”

Homura's frown and knit brows spoke volumes about the hurricane of questions she had. Something else for Ichigo to text to Urahara. He got the impression she was as endlessly curious and detail-obsessed as the scientist.

“It's been lovely, cuties!” Rangiku trilled as she wiggled her fingers at them all in a little wave. She looked at Homura and winked. “You need to give me gossip about my captain sometime!” She was through the door and gone before Homura could react.

Yuzu hooked an arm around Homura's elbow and smiled through her tears as the girl glanced at her. “Come on. Let's go.”

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dorky canon note: Mitakihara's architecture is cobbled together from the most impressive buildings in the world. Including the damn Burj Khalifa. Because SHAFT was like, “why not?”
> 
> So I am sifting through some Magia Record materials online as they trickle out and I saw one gif that kinda irks me because it literally looks almost exactly like a scene that I've been plotting for over a year now that will happen way down the line (I have fragments/a few complete scenes of the last couple timelines already written out *wink*) and now it will look unoriginal. Dammit. /nerd


	60. NEUNUNDFÜNFZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Why was this chapter so difficult to write. Why.
> 
> I hope there aren't any typos in this chapter. My word processor has suddenly decided to mark everything but “I” as misspelled and I don't have the energy to fix it this late.
> 
> Announcement: I posted new art to the DeviantArt account. Just a couple sketches. (Look in Scraps, too.) But it has come to my attention that there is fanart of this story(?!). I made a journal post on that account for collecting links to fanart. Link me to my grandchildren and make me cry.
> 
> To those who frequently worry about the logistics of notebooks/journals/letters being inadequate for conveying non-Homura memories with each loop: I do have Plans, but you're also making an assumption that may not be correct.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**NEUNUND FÜNFZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

_Kisuke needs to come up with a plan before I lose it and just go rabbit-hunting_ , Isshin thought to Engetsu as he watched his children with Homura. Engetsu smoldered in silent agreement, an ominous harvest moon low on the horizon.

When Isshin had last seen Homura two weeks ago, she had been subdued but cautiously opening up like a flower bud peeking through snow in early spring. In the time since then, winter had resurged and frosted the bud shut. That thousand-yard stare was back, facial expressions were all but gone, and she reacted to Karin and Yuzu's affections with a dull monotony, mechanically going through the motions of what she knew she was supposed to do in response. Isshin agreed with Kisuke: Homura had regressed. It broke his heart.

Isshin fleetingly came back to wanting to introduce Ayase Sōju to Engetsu, as he had ever since he read Kisuke's may-as-well-be-an-autopsy report. He added Luca as an afterthought. Teenagers or not, they were monsters who had wrought all kinds of havoc on one of his girls.

At least Homura seemed to be able to express curiosity. Maybe that could be an inroad. Kisuke had said she was pissed at him for withholding information. Maybe Isshin could offer to talk to her about spirit stuff. Isshin saw that his son was looking at Homura speculatively behind her back; they would have to sit down to a strategy session after the girls were asleep.

Yuzu started leading Homura toward him, but the girl stopped when she noticed the other person in the room for the first time. Hachi was an imposing man at first glance, tall and broad and rotund, but the mellow kindness on his face was reassuring. The olive green suit and yellow bow tie he wore were also disarming. His eyes twinkled and his pink mustache twitched as he smiled at Homura and bowed. “Welcome back to Karakura.”

“Who are you?” Homura asked bluntly, her undertone of challenge unmistakable.

“Hachigen Ushōda,” he answered politely. “I am a colleague of Tessai's. I am assisting with minding the shop while Tessai and Kisuke are away and stabilized the reishi henkan-ki from this end.”

Homura eyed him suspiciously, but turned away and allowed Yuzu to lead her toward the exit. Behind them, Ichigo heaved a dismayed sigh and met Isshin's eyes.

The four of them ascended to the trap door in the ceiling. Isshin still was not used to his daughters being able to flash step. They emerged in a back room of Urahara Shop and wended their way through the halls until they reached the storefront. Though it was very late, Ururu was tidying up and restocking shelves with the questionable assistance of Jinta and Hiyori, who were doing more aggressive bickering than anything else. Isshin wondered who thought it was smart to put the two of them together.

Ururu greeted them politely, traded a long look with Homura, and turned back to her task with a nod. Jinta didn't seem to notice them, but Hiyori immediately latched onto how Homura was eyeing her suspiciously. “What're _you_ squinting at, Baldy?!”

“Shut it, bitchface,” Karin snapped. “This is _not_ the time.”

The blonde shook with rage. “I'll bitchface y _ou!_ ”

Karin sneered. “Bring it, shorty!”

“Let's go!” Hiyori reached back over her shoulder for her sword, which was slung over her red tracksuit.

Ichigo's hand slammed down on her shoulder. “Don't even, Hiyori,” he growled.

“ _Someone_ needs to teach your sister when to _shut her smart mouth_ ,” the blonde snarled.

Karin took a threatening posture and widened her arms in invitation. “Fight me!”

Homura, who had watched impassively, swept in front of Karin and grabbed one of her hands. She tugged Karin's arm as she walked past and coldly said, “Come. That child is not worth your effort.”

“ _What did you call me, Baldy?!_ ” Hiyori screeched.

Homura paused to glance over her shoulder disdainfully. “A child. Your insults are kindergarten level at best and you are throwing a tantrum. Go to bed.” She turned forward and tossed her hair over shoulder dismissively, then said, “Come, Karin. We have better things to do than waste time with her,” and pulled Karin toward the front door. Karin stumbled after her willingly, looking back over her shoulder and cackling the whole way out into the yard. Jinta also pointed at Hiyori and laughed. Yuzu made a judgey little _hmph_ and flounced out after her sister.

Hiyori tried to lunge after them but Ichigo threw her over his shoulder and stalked back down the hall. “I'll catch up to you guys in bit,” he called out. “I need to have a _talk_.”

Isshin and Ururu looked at each other blankly in the wake of the tempest. Engetsu muttered, _Well. That escalated quickly._

 _At least Homura still has Karin's back... I guess_ , Isshin thought to his zanpakutō spirit.

_Orrr she decided hates Sarugaki just. that. much._

Isshin sighed, scrubbed his face in his hands, and left to rejoin the girls.

He caught up with them two blocks away. Homura had slowed, but still loosely held Karin's hand as she led the way. Karin was plainly allowing her to do so, deliberately submissive to maintain the handholding. As Isshin watched, Yuzu sped up and hooked her arm in Homura's free elbow, then matched her pace. Homura stiffened, but relaxed and otherwise showed no reaction. Yuzu didn't lean in close or say anything-- touching, but allowing space. Homura did not reject her move.

Karin and Yuzu still had an in with her-- had access to some chink in her armor. Thank _God_.

Isshin decided to be passive that night. Let Homura get comfortable with the twins. He'd be present and available but not intrusive. His daughters seemed to _get_ Homura on some deep, priceless level that gained them access to the girl's emotional fortress, so he'd be their willing assistant as they helped her untangle her knots.

When they got home, Yuzu led their human chain into the kitchen and ushered Homura into a seat. Isshin hung back by the doorway and waited for direction, trusting Yuzu's lead. Her fleeting glance and approving smile at him made his lips quirk. _Ah, Masaki. If you could see your daughters now...._

“Karin,” Yuzu said in an assertive tone that made her sister all but snap to attention, “get Homura a glass of... what would you like, Homura?”

“Water is fine,” Homura said quietly.

Yuzu nodded at Karin, who turned to comply. Yuzu bent and took Homura's hand. “When's the last time you ate?”

Homura stared at her blankly. “I do not remember.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I... suppose.”

Yuzu nodded again as Karin set the water in front of Homura and stepped back. “I'm going to cook you something small,” Yuzu announced. “Then we can do whatever you want.”

Homura stared at the glass of water dully. After a long minute of silence, she said, “I would just like to sleep. I am... tired.”

Isshin remembered what his other self had written about the first night Homura had been in their home. He saw the resemblance to Ichigo after his mother's death even though all of her friends were still alive. So the events may have made her feel like she had pushed her friends so far away they may as well be dead and lost. Damn. Well, at least she could _admit_ to being tired and hungry this time.

Cold comfort.

He quietly cleared his throat to get their attention. “Homura, is there anything you'd like me to do or get?”

She stared at him a bit, then said, “No.”

“All right,” Isshin said. He took a step back. “If you need me for anything-- and I mean _anything_ \-- just call for me, okay? You too, girls. Same goes for Ichigo when he gets home.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Got it, Goat Face.”

Homura just tilted her head and stared some more.

Isshin sighed heavily and offered her a gentle smile. “Good night.”

His daughters chirped it back at him, but Homura still stared in silence.

§ x § x §

Homura woke slowly on Sunday morning, surrounded by warmth. She rubbed her sore eyes and sleepily looked around the room in the weak light of predawn. Karin and Yuzu bracketed her on either side of the futon on the floor between their beds. Yuzu was still on her side facing Homura with one hand loosely holding the end of the braid made of smaller braids she had made while listening to Homura talk-- well, babble-cry-- the night before. Calmer now, Homura figured out that Yuzu had been soothing her with a repetitive set of motions that kept her close but involved minimal touch. It was something Madoka would have thought to do. There had been a few timelines when Madoka had spoken to her gently after a breakdown and woven her hair together while she cried. Madoka had held her, playing with her hair from the other end of a hug, tho--

She forcibly stopped the memory. Focus on the now.

Karin had started out facing Homura from her other side, close without touching except to occasionally prod Homura's ankle with her toes if she lost herself for too long mid-sentence. Karin had rested her chin on her hands and watched Homura's face keenly, noting every tear and grimace with calculating gray eyes that betrayed violent thoughts as she muttered a low string of profanity-laden commentary on the people who had hurt Homura. Somehow, the outside offense and anger and salty language soothed Homura. She felt... validated. Now, Karin seemed to have turned in her sleep and was spread-eagled on her front, the arm closest to Homura resting against the top of Homura's head. Strangely, Homura felt no need to get away from the contact. Strange, how something so minor actually made Homura feel welcome. Like it was natural for her to be there between the sisters.

Homura closed her eyes and loosened her magic a bit, reaching with her senses. The twins were two complimentary sets of welcome-- one slightly possessive in her protectiveness, the other a curious sort of all-are-welcome, ingathering sparkle of desire to cheer. Just beyond their huddle, they were once again flanked by the warm, contained-wildness moonlight-and-embers magic of the Kurosaki men. They were unseen banked fires of... protective concern, Homura thought. Whatever it was, she basked in it. The four of them. She didn't understand how she was so comfortable with them. She wanted to, but was also afraid to. It reminded her of when she had been small and endlessly fascinated by laying on her back and sinking into the ridiculously fluffy down comforter on her parents' bed; it gave her mixed feelings she had trouble identifying. So she settled into it, accepted it, without thinking too deeply on it.

She lay drowsily for a long time as the room gradually brightened, eyes heavy-lidded as she felt around with her magic in lazy curiosity about the residents of Karakura. The vast majority really did have at least the slightest touch of magic, with points of brighter magic scattered here and there. Several nearby were very bright, but she could only identify that girl who had joined her and Inoue on the rooftops in the last timeline. Whatever her name was. Homura's wandering magic noticed when Isshin woke up, his magic shifting from nebulous in sleep to more focused; he seemed to notice her magic, as his own flickered with amusement.

Awhile later, Isshin's magic moved past their room and paused near Ichigo's. It stopped and gently poked at Homura in question. Homura snorted aloud and prodded back. Isshin's cheered like an eager puppy and Ichigo's door opened with a slam. This time Homura understood his shouted _GOOOOOD MOOORNING ICHIGOOO!_ before Ichigo's window slammed open and Isshin howled on his way out it before it slammed closed behind him. This time she perceived Ichigo's magic cycle through startled-notsurprised-irritated-playful-satisfied-affectionate-grumpy-alert. Weird.

How was this her life. How was she okay with this. So strange.

Karin pried herself off the floor with her elbows with a growled _goddamn idiots_ and sat up on her knees to rub her eyes. Yuzu yawned and stretched. Down the hall, Ichigo was shouting down the stairs at Isshin, who was bawling loudly. Their magic was tinged with a mutual playfulness that made for a strange contrast with their morning routine. And it _was_ a routine, almost a show; one that Homura was building an _ah, I've seen this one already_ acceptance to. Homura blinked drowsily and let her eyes wander to the window and take in the soft blues of the sky.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, Madoka was alive and uncontracted, and Homura felt... safe.

Homura joined the entire Kurosaki family in a cooperative effort to make a big breakfast. Except their bantering, playful bickering, and a flour war consisting of Ichigo and Karin vs. Isshin dragged out the prep until they had to call it brunch to save face. Yuzu smiled and hummed as the rest of the family shrieked with laughter behind her back while she taught Homura how to cook another dish. Homura kept glancing over her shoulder at them with conflicting emotions-- confusion, consternation, amusement, disapproval-- but Yuzu acted like it was normal so she didn't say anything.

Then there was the sound of something breaking. Everything fell silent as Yuzu continued humming but wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face her family. Homura turned and eyed them with her. The rowdy ones were all frozen mid-action, Karin's arm rearing back to throw a fistful of flour, Isshin brandishing a plate like a shield, and Ichigo staring in shock at some kind of ceramic shards on the floor. All slowly looked at Yuzu with horror.

Yuzu smiled. “I think that's enough play for now.”

Even Homura shivered.

Brunch started with the flour-covered miscreants subdued as guilty children, but it wasn't long before they had cheered back up. Isshin started telling stories about strange patients that week, which prompted a sprawling reminiscence of all strange patients through the years complete with contributions by the Kurosaki children, who had apparently been assisting in the clinic for years. Homura tentatively told a story about someone she once had to share a hospital room with. Her account of the nurses' subtle revenge on the snobby woman had them rolling. A smile played across Homura's face at causing it.

Yuzu ordered her family to clean up and dragged Homura back upstairs. “You can't just wear your uniform all the time,” she declared. “Pick something out.”

Homura opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Karin's distant voice hollering, “You'd _better_ be putting on something you can play soccer in, you dweebs!”

An hour later, Homura stood beside Yuzu on a soccer field, fidgeting in her borrowed shorts, shirt, and sneakers while the brunette hummed cheerfully. They watched Karin commandeer random kids from the park between furiously texting her soccer minions. Soon, summoned minions began to appear from every direction.

The one with glasses whined, “Heyyy, you said Hitsugaya would be here!”

Karin looked him in the eye, face an uncaring deadpan, and bluntly said, “I lied.”

“No fair,” complained the one with curly hair.

“ _Life's_ not fair, Donny,” Karin said with a dismissive wave. “Let's make teams.”

Homura allowed herself to get lost in the game, let the world beyond the soccer field fade until all that mattered were an exertion that didn't involve the keyed-up edginess of life-or-death battle, a far more soothing application of adrenaline rushing through her, and the scents of freshly-mown grass and clean sweat. The only sounds were the shouting of players, the scuffling and pounding of feet on sod, and Isshin's distant cheering from atop a park bench as Ichigo lazed on it beside him. The lightness started to feel like a natural high of sorts. She was firmly tied to the _here_ and _now_ for once.

Then one of Karin's minions failed at stealing the ball from Homura, slipped, and grabbed a fistful of her hair to steady himself with a hard yank that twisted her head. Reacting without thinking or making any sound, Homura jerked her elbow back into his solar plexus and floored him. Everyone on the field froze in silence for a moment before Karin cackled and shouted, “The ball! Homura, the ball!”

“That was a foul!” shouted one of the other minions.

“Ryohei fouled her first!”

“So what?!”

“ _I_ don't see a ref, Heita, do you?!”

Said minion looked to the bench holding the Kurosaki men and found no sympathy. He looked to Yuzu and found a frighteningly bland smile.

“The baaalllll, Ho-mu-raaaaa!” Karin shouted impatiently. “Keep your eyes on the prize!”

Still off-balance by the situation, Homura mechanically positioned herself and kicked the ball toward Karin over Ryohei's groaning body. She stood and watched in confusion as Karin crowed triumphantly and the game picked back up. The minion at Homura's feet rolled onto his front and pried himself up to his knees with a deep gasp. He glanced up at her sideways with a combination of fear and respect.

“You... really _are_ like Karin,” he wheezed.

Homura found herself pleased, oddly enough. Even though she couldn't tell if that was intended as an insult or a compliment. “Most people would apologize for hair-pulling,” she said coolly.

“Jeez, _sorry_ , I was falling and your hair was _there,_ ” the boy huffed as he gained his feet. “If you have that much hair you should be used to people pulling it by now.”

That had actually been a Major Problem at her old school, so very long ago. Homura scowled at him fiercely. He quailed and scrambled away from her. If Homura played more roughly after that, Karin certainly didn't complain. No one else made a grab for her hair, either.

A couple hours of intense play later, the three magical girls were the only ones with any stamina left. The randomly drafted playground kids Karin had hustled into playing drifted away one by one; Karin's minions remained out of wariness of their commander but looked dead on their feet by late afternoon and took off quickly once Karin gave them leave. Isshin fawned over them and declared a victory dinner. The Kurosaki family caught Homura up in their current as they jostled and flowed to the little pho place they had taken her to in... was it this timeline or last timeline? Whatever. Homura kept her protests about their appearances to herself even though her proper upbringing was screaming to her that they didn't belong in a restaurant while breathing heavily and covered in dirt and stale sweat and grass stains. She sat back and forced herself to drink her third glass of water slowly, watching over the rim of her cup as Isshin and Karin dramatically analyzed and reenacted several scenes from the game. At high volume. With expansive arm gestures. Yuzu encouraged them from Homura's left as she downed her own water and Ichigo leaned back in his chair and snorted or chuckled fondly at them from Homura's right.

Ichigo's eyes met Homura's and crinkled in amusement. He leaned toward her and said under his breath, “Karin will _scream from the rooftops_ that she's not like the old man, but she really kinda _is_. Sometimes, at least.”

Homura eyed the father and daughter, who were shaking their fists in the air as Karin perched on a chair and stomped a foot on the table, striking a victorious pose with a furious face. Both were yelling and acting like the game had been a glorious battle.

“I see it,” Homura agreed without hesitation, dully wondering if _this_ restaurant would kick them out for rowdiness.

It did not. People in Karakura seemed to be immune to Kurosaki strangeness. It was the only thing Homura could come up with when pondering why they didn't get pitched out into the street by police. She suddenly understood what the train conductors had bickered about in the last timeline: Karakura was a basket of absurdity and the residents had grown disturbingly used to it.

They got home as the sun set. Karin barreled up the stairs and Yuzu pulled Homura up with them. They took turns showering off the grime of the game, the sisters pushing their guest to go first. Afterward, Homura wore the nightdress Yuzu laid out for her without really thinking about it and sat down to prepare for the task of untangling her hair. Which she really, _really_ should have braided before the game.

The sisters came back into the bedroom together, Yuzu with her hair up in a towel and Karin with her hair fanned out over the towel around her shoulders, just as Homura finished pulling supplies out of her shield.

“What,” Karin said blankly.

“What's all that for, Homura?” Yuzu asked.

In answer, Homura tugged the towel off her hair, let the entire mess fall down around her, and stared at them drily. She felt like she was peering out at them from a mass of black seaweed. The surprised faces they made amused her, though.

“Holy crap,” Karin said, voice detached with shock.

Isshin's voice drifted up from downstairs before Yuzu could say anything. “Girrrrrr-rrrllls, iiiiiiice creeeeeam!”

“You look like that ghost girl that crawls out of TVs,” Karin continued. From her tone, this wasn't a bad thing. She was approaching gleeful and looked like she had _ideas_.

Homura blinked at the doorway dispassionately. Yuzu drew up in determination and declared, “Karin, grab her stuff. We'll help her downstairs.”

“That will not be necessary,” Homura demurred.

“Shut it, Rapunzel,” Karin said as she bent and gathered combs, brushes, and bottles into a jumble in her arms. “Ice cream's calling. Let's go.”

Ichigo's double-take when he glanced up from the couch and saw Homura looking like a drowned rat was admittedly hilarious, Homura thought as the sisters herded her into the family room. Karin dumped all the supplies on the coffee table and started sorting them out. Yuzu pointed where she wanted Homura to sit and Homura just did not have the energy to object, so she sat. The brunette started organizing the supplies. She picked up one of the bottles of leave-in conditioner and examined it like a wine connoisseur.

“You have good taste in product,” Yuzu said in a businesslike tone. She glanced at Karin and ordered her to get their ice cream, exchanged the conditioner for a detangler, then popped the cap and settled in behind Homura.

“Trial and error,” Homura said quietly.

“The best teacher,” Yuzu quipped as she started spraying the liquid into Homura's damp hair.

Karin and Isshin ended up bringing the entire bucket of ice cream into the living room and plunking it and the bowls and spoons on the coffee table. Isshin cheerfully lined up the bowls and started fighting the ice cream with a serving spoon. Karin sat with her chin in her hands and looked at Homura.

“Are you _sure_ your name isn't Sadako?” she drawled. “Or Rapunzel?”

“Homurapunzel?” Ichigo said with a smirk.

Karin whipped around and looked at him with delight. “ _Homurapunzel_. You're a genius!”

Ichigo smirked and preened, then turned to Homura. He watched Yuzu start carding the slicked hair with her fingers to get the biggest snarls sorted out. “It sounds dumb, but I really hadn't noticed just how long your hair is.”

“It goes down to her _butt_ ,” Karin observed incredulously.

“It looks longer because it is wet,” Homura said dismissively.

Yuzu cooed, “It's beautiful, but the upkeep must be exhausting.”

“Oh my God, seriously, how do you live with that much hair?” Karin said. “I grew mine out long enough for a decent ponytail and even _that_ annoys the hell out of me sometimes.”

Homura shrugged. “My hair has always been long. I am used to it. It only bothers me when it gets like this.”

“Doesn't it get like this every time you fight?” Ichigo asked with a curious tilt of his head.

“Not particularly,” Homura replied, carefully holding her head exactly as Yuzu placed it. “Unless my magic is extremely strained.”

“Wait wait wait. _You make your magic take care of your hair?_ ” Karin blurted.

What? Homura had never even considered it. “No.”

“So, what... maybe unconsciously? Subconsciously, whichever.” Karin leaned forward with a grin. “Do you _hate_ untangling your hair _so much_ that your magic just avoids tangling your hair? Makes every strand just flow perfectly? _Magical automatic tangle prevention?_ ”

Homura stared blankly at her, thought for a moment about how Mami would sometimes use-- _waste_ \-- her magic to put her hair in perfect pigtails with a snap when in a hurry, then fervently hoped that wasn't really the case. It would be so _petty_.

“Do you want chocolate on top, Homura?” Isshin asked brightly.

“...Yes, please,” Homura said slowly. “Just... a bit.”

Isshin whistled a cheerful tune and set out the bowls of ice cream in front of everyone. Yuzu took one large spoonful and went back to work on Homura's hair, this time with a large comb. Homura shifted awkwardly as they all watched like she was some kind of museum exhibit.

“No, seriously, you could strangle someone with it,” Karin declared.

“What?” Homura asked with a confused frown.

“Your hair,” Karin clarified. “You could seriously strangle someone with that hair. Or smother them.” She noticed the weird look Homura gave her and turned to Ichigo and Isshin. “Back me up here, guys!”

“Captain Unohana's is probably longer,” Isshin said immediately. “Her braid is that long, so her hair must be longer when down. I've never seen it, though. She always keeps it in a braid under her chin.”

“Say what?” Karin said. “How does that work?”

“I dunno,” Ichigo said with a shrug, “but it looks like she's wearing a black noose with the rope going down her front.”

“A _noose?_ ” Karin blurted in surprise.

“She's a terrifying woman, so it suits her,” Isshin said darkly as he shuddered over a spoonful of ice cream. Ichigo shuddered with him.

“That sounds highly impractical,” Homura observed. “It would be a handicap on anything she wants to do with her arms. If she bends, it will get in her way.”

“That may be the entire point,” Isshin wondered aloud. “The challenge of working with a limitation, I mean. Keep life interesting.”

“Whatever. _She can make it into a noose_ ,” Karin declared.

“On _herself_ ,” Ichigo said drily.

Karin ignored him. “Homurapunzel could _totally_ strangle someone with that hair.”

“Well, yes, technically, but it would be extremely difficult and expose her to close-quarters attack,” Isshin said thoughtfully.

Yuzu picked up a smaller wide-toothed comb and another bottle. “Not worth it.”

Homura relaxed into quiet comfort as Yuzu worked on her hair and the others engaged in a gossiping session about the hairstyles of various shinigami. It had been a long time since Homura had allowed anyone but a Madoka dozens of timelines ago so close to her hair-- a long time since she trusted anyone but Madoka with her vulnerable neck and back. It was soothing; it brought back memories of sleepovers with the Mitakihara girls in early, innocent timelines and shades of her mother combing her hair when she felt too ill and weak to do so herself. Her hair had been her pride, then. Everything else about her body had been frustratingly _wrong_ and _limiting_ but her hair was attention-getting and enviable even by healthy people. It was the only thing she regularly got complimented on. She had cherished it as one thing that didn't make her feel _less-than_. Any suggestion of cutting it short would bring her younger self to tears.

How silly it seemed, now, in the scale of things.

Everyone was long done with their second bowl of ice cream by the time Yuzu had Homura's hair combed perfectly straight. The brunette hummed in scrutiny and clinically said, “You have a lot of breakage down the center.”

“I used to wear it parted down the center in two braids,” Homura explained. “I stopped awhile back.”

She could practically feel Yuzu squinting as she tugged hair this way and that. “How long ago? This looks recent.”

“Technically, just a few weeks for this body,” Homura said carelessly. “Probably at least two dozen timelines, though.”

There was a long silence before Karin said, “That will never stop being weird.”

Yuzu avoided the subject, switched to a brush to get more airflow between strands and dry the hair more, then said, “Hmmm. How about a single French braid? I can hit it with a hairdryer if it's still too damp when we go to bed.”

“Please do not trouble yourself,” Homura demurred. “Combing it out took enough effort.”

“Awww, but I've never gotten to play with hair this long before,” Yuzu argued with a pout.

Homura sighed. “Fine.”

Every other Kurosaki grinned at her with blatant entertainment. Homura realized she was submitting to Yuzu's unspoken authority in the household just like they did. Surprisingly, it didn't particularly bother her. She still scowled at them, though, then scowled harder when it was plain that they saw right through her.

They ended up rearranging themselves, Yuzu on the couch with Homura on the floor in front of her, Isshin sitting next to Yuzu on the couch, and Ichigo and Karin serving as bookends on the floor on either side of Homura as they watched a movie. It was a jump-scare thriller, but none of them found it frightening. Yuzu cheerfully hummed through it as she brushed and braided Homura's hair. Homura only vaguely watched the screen, more intent on the other Kurosakis bantering about every stupid thing the characters in the movie did. It was pleasant and... domestic. Isolated from time in a good way, for once. Homura closed her eyes and let it soak in, memorizing every detail she could. Odd and objectively unremarkable as it was, this definitely belonged in her mental treasure trove of good memories.

The movie was abandoned near the end when Yuzu brightly announced that she was done. Homura tilted her head around to get a feel for the new style and couldn't decide whether or not she liked all the weight in one place. She reserved judgment.

“It's beautiful,” Isshin said warmly. “We should take a picture.”

“You could beat someone to death with that braid,” Karin declared.

Everyone eyed Karin sideways, but no one could really argue. The braid could pass for a heavy rope thicker than a child's wrist.

The rest of the night passed in a comfortable blur. Homura went to sleep that night without obsessing over the mess in Mitakihara. It was more a series of passing thoughts. Hitsugaya's reassurances about her friends' reception of her behavior rang more plausibly when she was with the Kurosaki family. For the moment, Mitakihara was _far_ and _later_. Karakura was _here_ and _now_.

Homura wished Karakura and Mitakihara were one and the same. That everyone she cared about was together. Maybe it would make everything easier. It made for a pleasant dream, anyway.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hmm. This chapter feels short but this is where the natural break is and the next chunk is too big. *shrug*
> 
> Update schedule oddness is because my hours at work have been weird and exhausting. I'm also hitting another stage of the story where I need to set things up carefully. The slowness before this summer was me building it up in a similar way; the rapid updates just flowed naturally once I set it up. So please be patient with me as I set up the rest of this timeline. There are a lot of moving parts.


	61. SECHZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: lol That feeling when you go back dozens of chapters to change a single word no one cared about to maintain plot consistency lol
> 
> Heads up, the story is most likely switching to updating every two or three weeks. Writing's getting tricky again. I'm trying to only post a chapter when I have at least another chapter after it done but I might extend that like I did earlier this year when I didn't start posting until I had four done because I kept going back to make corrections for consistency.

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**SECHZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Tōshirō crashed in the room next to the one all the girls were sleeping in. It was his assignment while Urahara and Tsukabishi worked on projects through the night. He observed and memorized each reiatsu signature that was less guarded in sleep, paying particular attention to Tomoe and Momoe for any worrying fluctuation toward darkness that might call for interference. Both felt dimmer than they had, but not dangerously so and they seemed to have stabilized while deeply asleep. He spent several hours texting back and forth with Ichigo and his former captain about Akemi and was glad for Yamamoto's ban on communication with anyone in Seireitei via phone. Matsumoto was probably squirming over not being able to bombard him with requests for gossip and agonizing over having to do her mission report on paper. In duplicate, one for him and one for Yamamoto. The thought made him smirk.

He allowed himself to doze off in the wee hours of the morning and trusted Hyōrinmaru to alert him to any sudden danger, as the dragon spirit did when they had to camp out on long patrols in the Rukon districts. It wasn't a particularly restful night's sleep, but it was enough to not be muddled in the morning. Hyōrinmaru nudged him awake a bit after dawn to alert him that the girls seemed to be awake. He lay and sleepily paid attention to their reiatsu, careful to not intrude with his own-- more like eavesdropping on someone behind you in a restaurant than peeking in a window. Tomoe's reiatsu was turbulent and dimming, but stabilized as Kaname's gently rose.

He really needed to talk to Urahara about that girl's reiatsu. Miki's, too, actually. Both were using their reiatsu in ways they seemed to be completely unaware of. Kaname seemed to project hers as a strong empathic tool for comforting people and Akemi mentioned her instinctively using it to repel attackers in the carousel labyrinth. Tōshirō had sensed Miki's weak use of reiatsu when he had carried her on his back after the carousel debacle. He had told her nothing vital seemed to have been hit, but Urahara later corrected him-- a bullet had grazed and compromised an artery, but the life-giving fluid within seemed to have remained in its correct path regardless with very little spillage-- hemorrhage. She should have bled internally far more than she had. All they had had time to talk about was that seemingly unconscious mitigation of bleeding having added to the girl's exhausted shock. Now that the Sōju crisis was over, they _really_ needed to talk about this.

Tsukabishi's reiatsu approached; Tōshirō heard him knock on the girls' door and them have a conversation. Tsukabishi then fetched Tōshirō. They all trooped into the normal living quarters portion of the shop compound and helped Tsukabishi make breakfast while Yoruichi-- back in cat form-- darted around their feet making a nuisance of herself. The big man disappeared as they were sitting down to eat and reappeared five minutes later with Urahara, who looked more rumpled and scruffy than usual. His eyes had the restrained manic look of someone who had been downing unholy amounts of caffeine or God-only-knows-what to pull an all-nighter. Or third or fourth all-nighter, as it were.

When they started to eat, Kaname looked around and timidly asked, “Where's Homura? Did you find her?”

“I talked her into coming back last night,” Tōshirō said, then looked to Urahara to explain her absence and give him a cue for what story to play along with.

“She needs a break to pull herself together a bit. We smuggled her out of town in a way the Incubator shouldn't notice to a place we hid from it with magic,” Urahara half-fibbed.

Miki perked up. “Oh! The same way you brought in Miss In-- oh-- uuu-oops.” She nervously looked at Tomoe and Momoe, obviously realizing she had just blurted out something she was supposed to keep her mouth shut about. Tōshirō brought a hand up to his face and massaged the space above his eyes.

Teenagers.

“Miss who?” Tomoe asked.

Urahara waved his fan in a motion that implied _unimportant_. “Oh, I smuggled in the best healer we know on the night you were taken,” he explained. “Miss Akemi's magic was so depleted from keeping her body alive that she was at her limit and unable to do anything else for herself by the time we got her here. We stabilized her and probably _could_ have healed her ourselves, but it is difficult for most uncontracted people to heal magical girls so it may have taken _weeks_ for it to have a meaningful effect on her. We used up the Grief Seed from that battle on her in one hit and she was still near death and unable to heal herself. And we have no way of finding labyrinths to get Grief Seeds without her.” He paused, then continued, “Well, that was true at the time. We have Miss Momoe now. And you.”

Tsukabishi bent to top off everyone's cups with tea and added, “We had hoped to never need to bring that healer here and risk exposing her to the Incubator in the unlikely event the wards should fail. The Incubator doesn't know she is allied with us and we want it to remain that way. However....”

“Desperate times, desperate measures,” Tōshirō commented quietly. “Making sure Akemi didn't die took priority.”

Tomoe's grip on her teacup tightened and she looked miserable, lips pursed as she looked down. After a long silence, she said, “I was unreasonable with Miss Akemi last night. She was only trying to help.”

“No. Your being upset was both understandable and expected. Akemi was out of line,” Tōshirō said. Tomoe looked at him with surprise; he met her eyes seriously, then glanced at Momoe, too. “Especially when your actions were discussed, Momoe,” he said in an aside. Looking back to Tomoe, he sighed, “Hopefully, the way Miki handled giving information and calling her out will be a good influence on her.”

Miki's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. She pointed at herself. “Me? A good influence?”

If only she knew how bizarre that idea truly was when considering tales of other timelines. From Akemi's perspective, anyway.

“Your bluntness was both honest _and_ sympathetic,” Urahara praised her with a small smile. “Miss Akemi shies away from sympathy as a hazard. It's understandable _to a degree_ as a defense mechanism to not add others' pain to her own, but in your words: unhealthy.”

“It's not _fair_.” Kaname's lip quivered and her eyes shone with unshed tears. “She tries to help us _so much_ and tries to keep from-- keep _us_ from getting hurt, and it keeps hurting _her_. W-what-- how can we hel p her?” she asked plaintively.

Urahara tilted his head and gave a fond smile. “Be her friend. Stay safe-- keeping you two uncontracted and as safe as possible is extremely important to her. She's out of touch with interacting with people her own age because she has been forced to take on responsibilities that would crush many adults, so try to coax her into doing normal teenage things while not treating her oddly when she reacts to them with confusion or awkwardness.” He turned to Tomoe and Momoe and softly said, “That goes for you, too. Especially you, Miss Tomoe. Do not let yourself become too solitary or let your duties consume your very being. You see where that path has led Miss Akemi.”

Tomoe looked away from them all, guilty.

Miki eventually couldn't take the reflective silence anymore, fidgeted, and asked, “So how do we help Homura now? When she's not here? I know you-- you probably don't want to tell us _where_ she is, but... will she be okay there?”

Urahara smiled encouragingly. “She is with friends who form another cell of resistance against the Incubator. Including the only two magical girls she's ever found who managed to both cope with the truth and not get killed afterward. Yet. That pair's family knows everything and includes military veterans, so Miss Akemi doesn't have to be careful about concealing anything while they help her sort herself out.”

That was more information than Tōshirō would have given them, so Urahara was probably making some kind of strategic move. Ugh. “That family has been highly effective at calming and helping her get her head straight in the past,” he added for the hell of it. “I trust them with her.”

“Just please don't tell the Incubator that Miss Akemi isn't here in the shop,” Urahara ordered the girls, looking each of them in the eye with particular attention to Momoe and Tomoe. “I've warded the hell out of this place so they shouldn't be able to identify any personal magic from outside the property, so if they don't see someone leave they have no way of knowing that person isn't here. And I am under no illusion that the Incubators have this property under constant surveillance. Our wards are an anomaly in this area.”

“Wait, Incubators... plural?” Tomoe asked with a frown.

Tōshirō narrowed his eyes at Urahara, certain he'd “slipped” on purpose. The man ignored him.

“Yes, plural,” Urahara answered. “We are unsure of to what degree they have individual or collective consciousness, but they have multiple identical bodies for contracting and monitoring magical girls.”

Seeing Tomoe's skeptical confusion, Tōshirō said, “You know there are magical girls all over the place, right? Spread out such that you have to be careful about intruding in another magical girl's territory when you travel?”

“Yes,” Tomoe said slowly.

Tōshirō looked down and gathered more food in his chopsticks, considering his words, then quietly said, “Would it make sense for a single body to interact with that many girls at the same time over such a great distance?”

He didn't look, but he could _feel_ Tomoe's stare as he chewed. After a long pause, she softly said, “No. It would not.”

And so her perception of the “magical” world took another blow. Tōshirō hoped Urahara knew what he was doing.

“All right. So. Setting that aside--” Urahara made a hand motion of pushing something to his left-- “we have things to handle on our end.” He pointed at Miki and Kaname with his fan. “You and you, you're going home and staying there. You're going to school tomorrow and straight home after. You've been away from home for too many nights recently and we don't need your parents suspecting you're up to mischief. Don't hole yourselves up in your rooms, either. Actually interact with your families. It should be safer to walk the streets now that Sōju is dead, but Tōshirō will escort you.” He raised his brows in question and both girls nodded firmly.

“You,” Urahara said with a jab toward Tomoe, “You have a choice. I would prefer for you to stay at the shop for a few days so you are not alone while you sort through your feelings on everything, but if you wish to be in your own home I can send Miss Akemi's cat to stay with you to alert you to the Incubator if it should try to observe you.” _And strip its flesh from its bones without mercy_ went unstated but understood. “Or my nephew could stay with you,” he said casually as Tōshirō choked, “but having a boy move in with you without adult supervision so close to your school may cause some rumors.”

Tomoe squeaked and held her hands to her burning cheeks. Miki crooned and leered in a way that made Tōshirō think of an unholy combination of Karin and Rangiku. He knew _exactly_ what she was going to say before she even finished drawing breath to speak.

“ _Mayyybe_ you can pretend to be _dating_ ,” Miki drawled gleefully.

“ _NO_ ,” Tōshirō blurted at the same time as Tomoe.

Miki giggled at them with a wide grin, still looking like a combination of the two women who most enjoyed teasing him until he snapped. “ _Maybe_ you could _actually_ date!”

Time to shut this down. Tōshirō glared at her straight in the eye and ominously said, “ _Maybe_ I really _do_ need to have a talk with that Kamijō guy.”

“No!” Miki squealed as glee fled her face.

“Who's Kamijō?” Momoe asked innocently as she slipped scraps to Yoruichi.

Tōshirō allowed himself a wide smirk as Miki squirmed. “Miki's _boyfriend_.”

“Ooooooooooh,” Momoe cooed as she looked at Miki with interest.

“Is not!” Miki squawked.

Kaname glanced at her friend sideways with a sly smile. “This is why you don't tease people, Sayaka. They can tease you right back.”

 _Clap, clap!_ “Children!”

Tōshirō glared hard at Urahara. It didn't help that Hyōrinmaru was chuckling lowly in the back of his mind.

“Miss Tomoe, I apologize for asking you to make a fairly large decision with very little time to consider your options, but I really need to know your choice so I can shift my plans accordingly.”

The blonde bit her lip and fidgeted uncertainly, then looked up at Urahara. “I think... I would like to stay here. Think things through. And learn things. But I need to go home and pick up some stuff. If that's all right with you.”

Urahara beamed. “It is. I'll have Tessai put a guest room together for you. Would you mind going with Tōshirō to escort Miss Miki and Miss Kaname home before you both head to your home? I'd like their parents to see that the 'other friend' we used in last night's excuse for them to stay the night actually exists.”

Tomoe smiled weakly. “That's fine.”

The shopkeeper nodded decisively and turned to Momoe. “I think I'll send Yoruichi home with you. She will protect you if the Incubator comes and tries to talk to you. It can say some tricky things.”

Momoe's eyes widened as she pulled Yoruichi up into her lap. “But isn't Yo-yo _Miss Homura's_ kitty?”

Urahara's eyes gleamed wickedly as he glanced at the cat and Tōshirō knew Yoruichi had acquired a new nickname to be teased with. “She is. But Miss Akemi regularly lets her stay with other girls because Yo-yo hates the Incubator and will fight it off tooth and claw.”

Yoruichi let herself go boneless and stretch out in that way particular to cats as Momoe lifted her under the armpits to cuddle against her. The little girl shyly said, “Okay. But what if Daddy says no?”

Urahara waved his fan at her and said, “Let me worry about your daddy. You just act like Yoruichi makes you very happy and less lonely and I'll convince him having Yoruichi around will be good for you. If he argues, you just start crying, okay?” Meaning Urahara had meticulously planned out how to tug every single one of Mr. Momoe's heartstrings dedicated to making his grieving daughter happy.

“Okay!” Momoe chirped. She sat up straighter. “What do we tell Daddy about yesterday?”

And that was how Tōshirō ended up quietly leaning against a wall in the room they had stashed Mr. Momoe in as Urahara nudged the man awake and gave him water.

“Where am I?” Mr. Momoe asked.

“A shop in northern Mitakihara, near Asunaro,” Urahara answered. “Your daughter brought you here.”

Mr. Momoe snapped into alertness and searched the room. “Where's Nagisa?!”

Urahara made a soothing gesture. “A couple rooms away, in the dining room with her friends.”

“Friends?”

“The girls who came to your wife's funeral. And another friend of theirs.”

“Oh.” Mr. Momoe scrutinized them cautiously, eyes distant as he thought. “How... did I get here?” he asked. “The last thing I remember is getting on the train to come home from Shinchi with Sacchan.”

“I believe you experienced a mild fugue state,” Urahara answered.

“A what?”

“A brief episode of dissociative fugue,” Urahara said. “As I understand it, you just experienced the traumatic shock of your wife's death and becoming a single parent, yes?”

“Yes,” Mr. Momoe said warily.

“Sometimes, when faced with such stress, the mind just... checks out,” Urahara explained. “Detaches from the stressful things by forgetting about them for a bit. I'm glad it seems to have passed. You were very disoriented last night. Confused and detached and just... wandering.”

Mr. Momoe looked distressed. “What happened? What did I do? Why-- why am I here instead of a hospital?!”

“You just wandered aimlessly. Nagisa couldn't get you to remember how to get home and became alarmed when you crossed a street without paying attention to cars,” Urahara said as Momoe's father looked like he had been punched in the gut. “She didn't know what to do, so she called her new friends. The girls were visiting my nephew here--” he gestured toward Tōshirō, who nodded silently-- “so we all went and brought you here together.” He tilted his head and looked sympathetic. “A friend of mine had a similar reaction in the weeks after his wife died and left him with three young children, so I thought I'd bring you here to see if it would pass. Had you still been disoriented upon waking, I would have called authorities. But I thought you might prefer for it to remain a private matter if it was a brief episode.”

Mr. Momoe looked down, pale and ill, and croaked, “Thank you. Yes. I can't... I can't afford to be hospitalized or-- or committed, or whatever. Sacchan needs me.”

“There is no shame in grief, or how your grief manifested. The mind protects itself the best way it knows how,” Urahara said quietly. “But I would recommend you seek professional grief counseling. You need to take care of _yourself_ if you want to take care of _her_.”

Mr. Momoe scrubbed his face with his hands. “Yeah. Yeah. I'll do that. God, she must have been terrified.”

“She was frightened, yes,” Urahara said with a gentle smile. “But the older girls turned the whole thing into a slumber party and got her cheered up. She's also become attached to our cat.”

“Of course she has,” Mr. Momoe said with a wry grin. He straightened and firmed his face, then bowed. Upon rising again, he looked Urahara in the eye and said, “Thank you for all you've done for my family. I am indebted to you. How can I repay you?”

Urahara laughed lightly and waved his hands. “You are quite welcome, but I require no payment. I would hope someone else would do the same for me, is all.” He cocked his head to one side and looked thoughtful. “Maybe you should take a few weeks off from work. Stay home with your daughter and heal together.”

Tōshirō had to admire the deft way Urahara was angling to have the youngest magical girl be less able to get away from her father and get herself killed in a labyrinth. Manipulative as _hell_ , but necessary to limit the number of balls they had to juggle.

“Ah, I can't,” Mr. Momoe said with regret. “I used up my five days' paid bereavement leave. I could get unpaid leave, but what money I have saved would go to the rent and utilities so I need to work to have money for food.”

“Oh. I see. That's too bad,” Urahara said softly. But there was a calculating gleam in his eye.

Tōshirō would bet his haori Mr. Momoe would soon discover that all his outstanding balances had been mysteriously paid off.

Urahara slapped his hands on his knees and stood. “So! How about we get you some breakfast? Then my assistant can drive you and your daughter home in the shop's van.”

Mr. Momoe rubbed his eyes and said, “I would appreciate that, actually.”

Urahara glanced at Tōshirō. “Please let Tessai know to set another place at the table, Tōshirō.”

Tōshirō nodded and left. Back in the dining room, he found Miki telling some kind of melodramatic story that involved a lot of exaggerated faces and expansive arm gestures. Tomoe was holding a hand to her face to stifle giggles while Momoe leaned forward in her seat with wide eyes. He ignored them and found Urahara's assistant. “Tsukabishi. Another place at the table, please.”

Tsukabishi nodded genially and moved to the kitchen as Urahara led Mr. Momoe into the room. His daughter noticed immediately. Her face lit up and she squealed, “Daddy! You're awake!”

Mr. Momoe smiled wanly. “Yep. I feel much better now, too.”

“Yay!” Momoe ran to her father and threw her arms around his middle. He hugged her back until she pulled away and tugged on his hand. “Daddy, look! I helped cook!”

“You did? Wow! What did you make?”

Tōshirō couldn't resist the slight smile that stole across his lips as the little girl bodily dragged her father to the table, chattering a mile a minute.

“--And I helped Miss Mami with the strawberries and- Oh! Daddy, this is Miss Mami! She's very nice!”

Tomoe smiled over her tea and waved.

“We had a slumber party last night and it was nice and-- Oh! Lookit the bracelet I got, Daddy! It matches Miss Sayaka's and Miss Madoka's!”

Said girls held their wrists up to show off their bracelets, obviously amused by the little girl. Tōshirō glanced at Tsukabishi as he set a place at the table. The man nodded at him. He must have given her the one they made overnight while Urahara and Tōshirō were in the other room

“Wow, it's so pretty!” Mr. Momoe said. “Did you say thank you?”

“Yeah!” Momoe smiled brightly and tugged him down. “Sit, sit! Have breakfast!”

Mr. Momoe sat, looking deeply relieved. Probably glad his daughter didn't seem frightened or traumatized by whatever had happened the night before. And possibly that she was capable of cheer a mere week after her mother's death.

Miki resumed telling her stories. Whenever she paused for breath, Mr. Momoe would make a point of exclaiming how good the food was, which would make his daughter puff up with pride. Then Yoruichi sidled up from under the table and started meowing at the man's heels.

Momoe hopped off her chair and picked up the cat. “Yo-yo, no begging!”

Her father's lips quirked. “Is that the shop cat?”

“Yo-yo is Miss Homura's kitty,” Momoe explained. “Mr. Urahara is babysitting her because Miss Homura had to leave for a few days.”

“Yoruichi may as well be half ours,” Urahara chuckled. “She tends to follow Miss Akemi a lot and since she spent a lot of time at our old shop in Tokyo... well, Miss Kitty thinks she can boss us all around. Once she decides she likes you, you're pretty much her property ahahahahaha.”

“I _love_ Yo-yo,” Momoe announced brightly as she hugged the cat. Yoruichi purred loudly and nuzzled the girl's face, causing her to giggle. “I want to take her home!”

“You know,” Urahara said speculatively, “I spoke with Miss Akemi about how much you like her cat. She said that if Yoruichi makes you happy and you promise to take good care of her, you can watch her until she comes back. I actually gave Yoruichi to her as a kitten after... well, after her own parents died,” he added softly. Ignoring the surprised sadness on the faces of Akemi's friends, he concluded, “So she's fine with lending her to you.”

Momoe was either genuinely excited or a damn good actress because she immediately turned wide, sparkly eyes on her father. “Daddy, can I babysit Yo-yo until Miss Homura comes home?!”

Mr. Momoe's face faltered. “Ah... well... uh....”

“I promise I'll take really good care of her!”

“We don't have a litter box or anything.”

Momoe turned to Urahara with a pout. The shopkeeper said, “Ah, she actually goes outside. Miss Akemi lets her roam around outdoors while she's at school. As long as you give her food and pet her on demand, she's pretty low-maintenance. I can give you her food.”

The girl whirled back to her father with a hopeful face. The man dithered. “I dunno, Sacchan....”

Momoe's lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears, much to her father's alarm. It reminded Tōshirō of Matsumoto's last resort tactic when trying to squirm out of paperwork or slip out to go shopping. It was more potent on the face of an actual child.

“O-- okay,” her father stammered. “Just... just a few days, right?”

Momoe's face immediately cleared. “Yay! Thank you, Daddy!”

§ x § x §

Tōshirō and Tomoe walked Miki and Kaname home at a lazy, meandering pace. Miki's parents did seem fairly annoyed with her, but Tomoe proved to be a master of politely smoothing ruffled feathers. She doled out relieved smiles and thanks for sympathy and help with her “emergency” to the parents as much as their daughter, praising all for saving a lonely orphan's schooling until it would be rude for them to get irritated. Miki was obviously in awe as she disappeared behind her apartment's door.

Kaname's house was far less tense. Her father was away for the day-- “sanity-preserving baby break,” Mrs. Kaname had declared as her toddler trotted in circles screaming at nothing-- but her mother more than made up for his absence with her own concerned hovering. Tomoe skilfully avoided getting roped into staying awhile, slipping out with promises to seek the help of the Kaname adults if she ever needed anything.

The walk to Tomoe's apartment was mostly quiet, though Tōshirō did notice she kept looking at him searchingly. She finally spoke when they were halfway to their destination.

“You... skipped school to look for m-Sōju?”

Tōshirō looked at her out of the corner of his eyes and kept himself casual. “Yeah.”

“You're... not even a magical girl, tho-- ah! I mean, well, _obviously_ , since you're a _boy_ , but-- aaahhhhh--” she wrung her hands and looked mortified-- “I _mean_ , I didn't expect anyone but a magical girl to care about magical girl business.”

Lips twitching with amusement, Tōshirō said, “Even if I didn't have friends who had been wronged by the system, I wouldn't stand idly by if someone's life and soul were in danger. Not if there was something I could do to help.” He cast his eyes down at the ground and considered whether or not to continue, weighing the pros and cons. Opening up to Akemi seemed to have a positive affect, so perhaps.... He hesitated until he got the impression of a mental shove from Hyōrinmaru Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Slowly, he added, “That's why shattering those Gems--even by accident-- I'm... horrified, I suppose. I wanted to save them.”

Tomoe's face softened in sympathy. “I... would feel the same way. I would probably be a crying mess,” she said ruefully. “Have been, when I fai-- I f-failed to save--.” She cut herself off and went silent for awhile, watching her feet and obviously wrestling with old pain. Then she looked back up at him. “But you did manage to save almost four dozen of them. Including me. Miss Akemi isn't here to thank, but I want to thank _you_. You barely met me, and yet....” Tomoe trailed off and looked away.

“You're welcome,” Tōshirō said after a long pause.

The rest of their stroll was completed in silence. At Tomoe's door, the girl invited and then cajoled him into waiting comfortably in her apartment while she gathered her things, turning that weaponized politeness on him until he reluctantly agreed. As soon as they had taken their shoes off and passed from the foyer into the apartment proper, Tōshirō was fiercely glad he had accepted the invitation.

There on the coffee table sat the Incubator, tail snaking behind it as it stared at them. It looked almost exactly like the sketches he'd seen. Except the sketches hadn't conveyed how creepy the beady pink-red eyes truly were.

 _Welcome home, Mami Tomoe_ , it chirped.

Tomoe's arms locked at her sides, her fists clenching so hard they shook as her face darkened and her reiatsu vibrated with hurt-rage-betrayal in a way Tōshirō had become very familiar with during the Winter War. “Get out,” Tomoe snapped.

The creature tilted its head. _But I wish to speak with you._

“I don't want to hear a _word_ ,” Tomoe said.

 _Why not?_ it asked as it blinked innocently.

“Because I don't trust a _single word you say_ to me anymore,” Tomoe declared with the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “They told me all about what you did to my soul, you _liar_ \--!”

 _I do not speak lies_ , it interrupted her.

“Lies of omission are still lies,” Tōshirō drawled.

The Incubator stared directly at him for the first time. Though its face was expressionless, Tōshirō felt it was performing some manner of threat assessment of him. Good. Now was probably a good time to initiate the plan Karin had gleefully termed _Operation: Incu-Baiting._

“Don't even bother philosophically arguing that point,” Tōshirō interrupted its attempt to reply. “We've gone round in circles about it every time we met and, frankly, it's gotten boring.”

The creature's tail stilled. _We have never met before._

Tōshirō allowed himself a grim smile. “If that's truly what you think, then our methods are more effective than we thought.”

“What... methods?” Tomoe asked as she glanced between the two of them.

“Ever since the debacle with Akemi's original team, we've been helping her try to save other girls,” Tōshirō explained without breaking eye contact with the Incubator's rabbit-like eyes scrutinizing him. “Every time we come close, the Incubator either sweet-talks the girls we're protecting or aims other magical girls at Akemi. Moving on to another group when we failed with one became a non-starter because it would poison the minds of other girls before we could reach them.” He smirked at the Incubator. “So we cast an exhausting spell to interfere with memories of us whenever we move on.”

The Incubator seemed speechless for a moment, then said, _Impossible_.

“Is it really?” Tōshirō said airily.

_You are bluffing._

“Am I?” Tōshirō crossed his arms and looked at it flatly in the way he reserved for new recruits skeptical of his apparent youth. “I notice you didn't argue that you don't sweet-talk or pit magical girls against each other when it suits your needs.”

White fur bristled, but it seemed to be considering its reply. Best to interrupt that. Don't let it regain its balance.

“Sōju first showed up specifically looking for Akemi. By name and on sight. She wasn't local. I wonder why she came to Mitakihara and specifically sought Akemi. Considering our past encounters... I suspect you were directly involved.”

 _Ayase and Luca Sōju were magical girl hunters_ , the Incubator argued. _They traveled widely in search of prey. It is not unreasonable that they would visit Mitakihara._

“Oh? So you knew about them? Well, you know most magical girls, so that isn't surprising.” Tōshirō was sorely pressed not to laugh as he faked piqued interest. “You know, you didn't deny influencing Sōju's choice to come here. And also....” He craned his head around to look at Tomoe with heavy eyelids. “Tomoe, did this thing warn you about the Sōju coming to town?”

Tomoe was quivering with emotion, glaring at the creature with furious accusation. “No. _It_ did not. Not even when Miss Akemi warned me. _It_ avoided me after I confronted--” her eyes widened and her reiatsu flared in outrage. “You really _did_ try to play me against Homura, didn't you?!” she gasped. Angry tears finally spilled down her cheeks. “And when I made peace instead of fighting-- I became-- I became _useless_ to you, didn't I?”

 _Will you really allow these strangers to come between us, Mami Tomoe?_ the Incubator wondered sadly.

Tōshirō's brows rose at the obvious avoidance of an actual reply. He had expected the thing to split hairs with the definition of “useless” or something. At least Tomoe noticed the dodge and got even angrier.

“You tried to make sure I'd never listen to Homura,” Tomoe snapped. “You wanted me against her from the start.”

 _I attempted to protect you from her_ , it said as though hurt.

“Protect a strategic asset from outside influence to question your methods and goals, you mean,” Tōshirō interrupted.

It turned beady eyes on him as its mark's rage was stoked ever hotter, the slight shifting of its fur indicating tense twitching of muscles. It was frustrated. Excellent.

 _I think it is unused to someone who looks so young being an equal match in a verbal spar,_ Hyōrinmaru commented with grim smugness.

 _Bless the tactical advantage of a youthful face_ , Tōshirō wryly thought to his dragon. _Though_ it _of all beings should know to never trust appearances._ The answering rumble of distant thunder from within his Inner World was like a dark laugh. _Tomoe's starting to hold her own now that the blindfold's been torn off, though._

 _True_ , Hyōrinmaru admitted.

Tomoe marched to the sliding glass door to her balcony and slammed it open. “Get out.”

_But Mami--_

“Shut up.”

_If you do not hear my side, you will have an unbalanced view of events._

“I had an unbalanced view by listening only to _you_. Leave.”

The Incubator sighed and daintily dropped to the floor. As it took its time approaching the door, it mournfully said, _This is not like you. What did they tell you to affect you so?”_

“They told me the truth about Soul Gems,” Tomoe hissed as Tōshirō moved to follow the Incubator. “I never want to speak to you again, _Incubator!_ ”

The Incubator stopped just shy of the door and looked up at Tomoe. _I see. Well, the last two years together have been fun--_

“The last two years have been a _lie_ ,” Tomoe snarled. “Don't act like you were my friend when you were using me. Leave!”

_I never spoke an untruthful word to y—urk!_

And that was when Tōshirō had enough of word games, flooded his right leg with his reiatsu to coat his sock-clad foot in ice, and literally kicked the Incubator out. His foot connected with the little monster as though it was a soccer ball. It rocketed out the open door and over the edge of the balcony at high speed, trailing ice crystals like a comet. Tōshirō hoped its landing was painful.

So satisfying.

Tomoe was frozen in shock, wide-eyed and incredulous. Tōshirō met her eyes as he dissolved his ice, lowered his leg, and tucked his hands back in his pockets. “What a pain,” he said boredly. “Demon never knows when to shut up.”

The girl's mouth opened and closed speechlessly. She kept looking from him to the open air outside her balcony. Finally, she sputtered, “De-demon?”

Tōshirō blinked in surprise. That wasn't what he thought she'd latch onto. “Ah. I meant it in the pejorative sense, but that option isn't off the table. We're still not sure exactly _what_ it is.”

Tomoe just squawked and looked around like she didn't recognize anything or had been stunned into forgetting where she was. Her world had been shaken again. “Demon?” she repeated quietly.

Tōshirō let her fret for a minute then gently prodded, “We came here to get your things.”

“Right. Right,” Tomoe said. She looked unfocused for another moment then snapped back to reality and declared, “I'll make you some tea to drink while I pack. If-- if you want, I mean.”

Tōshirō didn't particularly care, but he was strongly reminded of how Karin's sister used routine domestic tasks to calm herself. “All right.”

As he savored his tea and waited for Tomoe, Tōshirō mentally combed through the interaction with the Incubator to firm it all in his memory. Hopefully, their plan to prod the Incubator into looking at itself for nonexistent outside interference with its memories would distract it. Tomoe seemed to be solidly on their side. And he had gotten to kick the Incubator out a high-rise window. Karin would be jealous.

 _So_ satisfying.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Kyubey: ／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼ I technically never said anything untruthf--
> 
> Tōshirō: #( ᄑ ︿ᄑ ) *boot*
> 
> Mami: ∑(O_O; ✿)Ƨƨ


	62. EINUNDSECHZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I didn't really want to release this until I had more than the next chapter written for Reasons, but I feel badly about how long it's been since I posted. I've been having difficulty writing for a number of real-world and health reasons that have been dragging me down and it frustrates me.
> 
> ! ! ! ! ! __ I do have one obstacle you may be able to help me with. __ ! ! ! ! !  
> I want to use the Witch Uhrmann very soon. I found a translation for InuCurry's page about her in the Production/Image note, but I can't find a translation for the page about her Familiar, Bartels. See my FF.n profile or recent DeviantArt journal for a link to the image. If someone can translate the Japanese scribbles or find a preexisting translation, I'd greatly appreciate it. I can only make out a few words about spinning and crude/clumsy stop-motion animation.
> 
> Maybe I'll just use a new Witch from Magia Record. (=_=) But I want to use the anime Witches and all but Uhrmann are spoken for in plans whether or not they've appeared in the story yet.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**EINUNDSECHZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Later that afternoon, Mami sat on the edge of the veranda in the shop's inner courtyard and tried to settle her confused thoughts. So far, all she had accomplished was downshifting from laser-focused anger into nebulous distress. Watching the koi lazily swimming in the pond was soothing, so she tried to focus on that. If she could just settle on one topic, maybe her world would stop wobbling on its axis. That topic may as well be fish swimming in circles without a care in the world.

A hysterical laugh tried to rise in her throat, but she clamped down on it. She was jealous of fish. _Fish_.

“Here.”

Mami looked up. Hitsugaya stood nearby, holding out a small paper bag. Curious, Mami took it and peered inside. Some kind of pellets.

“Fish food,” he explained without being asked. “I recommend throwing some on one side, then the other. Make them chase it. May as well make them work for your attention.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you.”

He solemnly nodded at her. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. I'm fine.”

“All right. Call me if you think of anything.” Hitsugaya turned and stepped away.

Mami's breath caught in sudden panic and she reached after him. “Wait! Stay!”

Hitsugaya stopped and glanced at her over his shoulder, surprised.

Cheeks burning, Mami mumbled, “I mean--! I-- I don't want to be alone.”

The boy's face relaxed into sympathy and he returned to her, paused, and sat an arm's length away from her. Mami fretted for a moment, then placed the paper bag on the wooden slats between them. Hitsugaya looked at her curiously, then grabbed a handful of fish food and settled facing the pond. They wordlessly eased into a pattern in which one of them threw food on one side of the pond, they both waited for the fish to eat it, and the other one threw food on the other side of the pond. Mami half expected him to try to... actually, she didn't know what. Get her to talk? But he didn't. He was just... present.

She didn't know how much time had passed; just that the sunlight was more orange than yellow and the paper bag was more than half empty when she hesitantly asked, “Can I... think out loud with you?”

A brief flash of teal as he glanced at her. “Of course,” he said agreeably.

Mami took a deep breath and tried to decide where to start. “So. Kyu-- the Incubator. He-- it... took my soul out of my body?”

“Yeah,” Hitsugaya answered.

She looked down at her ring and made her Soul Gem flash and turn into its egg form with a thought. She looked at the yellow stone and slowly said, “This... is my... my soul?”

“Yes.”

Mami forced herself to take several deep breaths. “When my soul is too far away from my body, they... separate? I mean... I lose consciousness?”

“Yeah.”

“The Incubator did this to me in exchange for a wish... so I would fight Witches.” After a pause, she added, “For it. But why?”

After a moment of quiet, Hitsugaya prompted, “What does it get when you defeat a Witch?”

“A Grief Seed,” Mami answered immediately. “It... eats them. It gave me a wish to... pay for? ...me collecting Grief Seeds for it to eat.”

Hitsugaya sighed heavily. “Yeah.”

Mami turned toward him and considered his troubled face as he cast more fish food into the pond. “There's more, isn't there? Another reason it does this?”

He didn't look at her. “Yeah.”

She knew she wouldn't get more out of him on that front, so she went quiet for a bit. Her Soul Gem was warm in her palm. Mami rolled it around morosely and finally said, “Am I even human anymore? Am I-- am I just a... a haunted rock?”

Hitsugaya choked and coughed, probably trying not to laugh. He did an admirable job of it, but it was obvious.

“That... came out really strangely, didn't it?” Mami asked with an embarrassed laugh.

“Yeah,” he said as he fought a smirk. “I get what you mean, though.” Hitsugaya looked directly at her and firmly said, “You are human. Your soul is human. It has an unusual form now, but it's still a recognizably human soul.” He paused and looked thoughtful, then slowly said, “It is not unheard of for a human's soul to... leave the body, you know. Without dying, I mean. Rare, but not unheard of.”

Mami looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Astral projection is real?”

He blinked slowly, nonplussed. “I... _guess_ you could call it that?”

“Can you do it?”

“...Uh.”

All right, now she was _really_ interested. Hitsugaya noticed; he grimaced and looked away. She couldn't help but smile at him. “You didn't mean to reveal that, did you?”

His cheeks went pink and he muttered something unintelligible.

“Why don't you want that known?”

Hitsugaya blew out a deep breath and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “It's... I guess you could call it a high-level technique. Spiritual power-- magic-- is stronger without having to go through a body. Like a... filter, I guess. If the Incubator knew I was capable of leaving my body to fight.... Well, we don't know _what_ it might do. Considering how it reacts to Akemi, it might find a way to convince other magical girls I'm a threat and try to take me out with a mob or something.”

“O-- oh.” Mami could feel the blood drain from her face as she had a vivid mental image of him cornered by other magical girls she knew of working together as a team for once to fight a common 'enemy'. Before this week, _she_ could have been one of them. Could have trapped him in ribbons while Kyōko and Nonon and others--

“So I keep it as a last resort for if I get pushed into a corner by something that could destroy my soul. After all--” he gave her a wry look-- “my empty body would be just laying there, vulnerable. A lot of spiritual predators don't give a damn about empty bodies, but the Incubator is smart enough that it could direct a magical girl to destroy it.” After a thoughtful pause, he continued, “If it comes down to staying in my body and having my soul destroyed or leaving my body and having my body destroyed while my soul survives, I'll take the latter. But I'd rather not have to make that call.” The boy searched her face for a moment then solemnly added, “Please don't tell anyone I can do that. Akemi knows, but the other girls do not.”

“I won't. I promise,” Mami said quickly.

Hitsugaya nodded and turned back to the pond. “Anyway, back to your situation. I think... the Incubator not telling you what it would do before it did it was a deep violation. For all its victims. It'll say it got agreement for the exchange but... by not giving all the details, I think that contract should be invalid. There's no....” He gestured vaguely after throwing some fish food, frowning hard and grasping for words. “I think the legal term is _informed_ consent. If you agree to a deal, you can't make a real choice if you don't have all the information about it, yeah?”

“Mm.” Mami let her Soul Gem turn back into a ring and refilled her hand from the bag of pellets. She threw more out when it was her turn, thinking aloud. “Even knowing that... doesn't change that my soul is... I don't know. Deformed?”

“Is not,” Hitsugaya scoffed as though offended at the very notion.

Mami looked down and mumbled, “Maybe 'mutilated' is a better word.”

“Nothing is... 'deformed' or 'mutilated' about your soul.”

“My soul is a rock,” Mami argued dully.

“A gemstone,” Hitsugaya corrected.

“What's the difference?” Mami asked, her voice cracking as she tried not to cry.

“Gemstones are beautiful, obviously,” he said as casually as declaring water wet. “Yours looks like, what, amber? Topaz? _Something_ precious.”

Mami stared. Hitsugaya threw his fish food and waited for her to take her turn, not looking at her. Eventually, he noticed that she wasn't taking her turn and looked at her sideways. She was still staring at him in surprise. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

“What? What is it?”

“Did-- did you just--?” Mami hesitated, then continued with a wobbly voice, “Did you just say my soul is... beautiful?”

Hitsugaya's entire body froze. His mouth dropped open and he stared at her with widening eyes as his face flushed. He made a strangled sound and looked torn between embarrassment, worry, and panic.

“Oh, my.”

Ears going red and face contorting into horror, Hitsugaya joined Mami in turning to their left and saw his uncle standing in a doorway, eyes twinkling merrily as he hid the rest of his face behind his fan.

“I was going to call you to dinner but perhaps I should leave you for a bit,” Mr. Urahara cooed.

“It's not--! It isn't--!” Even Hitsugaya's neck was going red now.

“I'm _terribly_ sorry for interrupting your romantic moment.”

“It wasn't romantic!” Hitsugaya screeched.

Mami couldn't help it. Bright laughter burst from her lips. Hitsugaya whirled to look at her incredulously. It was _too funny_. She laughed so hard she cried and gasped for breath. Every time she thought she had herself under control, she took one glance at Hitsugaya's baffled and mortified expression, his uncle's glee, and just lost it all over again.

“Ahhh, you make her so happy, my darling nephew! You two are truly blessed!”

“What?!”

“Look at that smile! You put it there! That laughter like music! How charming!”

“I didn't--! _What?!_ ”

Mr. Urahara waved his fan at them in a shooing motion. “You two have fun. Make sure she comes up for air now and then, Tōshirō!”

“What is _that_ supposed to-- _what?!_ ”

“I mean the laughter, of course, you naughty boy~! You're too young for that kind of kissing~!”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

And Mr. Urahara disappeared into the house with a clatter of geta and an “Ohohohoho~!”

Mami held a hand over her mouth, centered herself, took a deep breath through her nose, and looked at Hitsugaya. He was the very picture of overwhelmed dismay as Mami's giggles triumphed and he slowly lowered his face into his hands.

§ x § x §

Ichigo woke early on Monday and had a quiet chat with his father as they cooked breakfast before the girls woke. They went quiet when the girls' reiatsu approached and looked at the doorway, where the three stopped and blearily looked in at them. Adorable.

_Snap!_

Everyone turned to Isshin, who was shoving his phone back in his pocket with glee.

“The hell you take our picture for, Goat Face?” Karin snarled. She self-consciously reached up to pat her hair, then grimaced at the mess she felt.

“To add to the family album!” Isshin gushed. “It needs more pictures of you three together! And you're all so cute when you're sleepy!”

Karin rolled her eyes, but Homura stared at Isshin, eyes wide in her otherwise blank face.

Yuzu pouted and rubbed her eyes. “ _I_ could've made breakfast.”

“You get a day off,” Ichigo said with a little grin.

“We get a day off school, too, right?” Karin asked as she flopped into a chair at the table.

“Nope,” Ichigo and his father said at the same time. Ichigo continued, “Better eat fast and get dressed.”

“What?!” Karin cried, finally provoked into full alertness. She looked offended. “Why not?!”

“We've missed too much lately,” Yuzu sighed as she took her own place.

Karin's face twisted into childish objection. “ _Homura_ gets to miss school!”

Isshin pointed a serving spoon at Homura, who was still staring at him from the doorway. “Homura has a heart condition on file. They _expect_ her to miss school.”

“You're a doctor,” Karin very nearly whined. “Lie about us!”

“Nope!” Isshin sang.

“Why not?! You've done it before!”

“Not in the mood,” Isshin said lightly.

“But I want to hang out with Homura!”

“You can hang out with her after school,” Isshin said firmly. “Let your brother have a chance to spend time with her.”

“Wait, _Ichi-nii_ gets to skip school?!” Karin shrilled. “ _Why?!_ ”

“Because I'm _older_ ,” Ichigo said with a teasing smirk designed to piss off his sister. “I get to play lazy college student. They don't care if I don't show up as long as they get paid and I turn in my classwork.”

“No fair!”

Ichigo laughed at her obnoxiously. His sister scowled and looked for something to throw at him, but the table was empty. She glared at him and stewed in her frustration.

“Come sit down, Homura,” Yuzu beckoned with a little wave of her hand.

Homura was still standing in the doorway, wide eyes staring at all of them now. Girl really needed to get it through her head that she was an honorary Kurosaki. A dubious honor, maybe, but pretty much unavoidable now.

“Is there something on my face, Stopwatch?” Ichigo asked loudly, then made a show of feeling around his face. His father mimicked him with the addition of a ridiculously worried facial expression.

“Ah-- I-- ah-- no,” the girl stammered. Homura looked lost for a moment, leaned forward as though to take a step, pulled back in hesitation, canted her head to one side to look at them all like they were _utterly baffling_ , then haltingly approached the table.

Ichigo cajoled Homura into coming with as they accompanied the sisters to their school. Karin grumbled and bitched the whole way, but Ichigo thought it was mostly for show. He couldn't tell whether or not Homura realized that. He stood with Homura and waved the twins off, then turned to her when they disappeared. “Coffee?”

Homura stared up at him with that now-familiar expression of caution, head tilted so her long hair cascaded over her shoulder, still wavy from its night in a braid. “All right,” she said eventually.

Ichigo ruffled her hair with a grin and waved her to follow. “Come on. I know just the place.”

His past self's notebook had mentioned something like this. Specific café hadn't been mentioned-- that “him” had passed on a largely rambling scrawl of jumbled thoughts which told him _volumes_ about ho w badly things had gone-- but Ichigo would bet it was his usual favorite. Overnight, he had debated whether or not to go to the same place-- he didn't want to look like he was following a blueprint or something-- but decided to go there again anyway. Make sure to mention it _was_ his favorite in case another “him” had to do this. Ichigo hoped that wouldn't be necessary, but his father had said Urahara's bet was on more repetitions. It was infuriating, really. Ichigo didn't want Homura to have to reset at all, but if she did, he wished he could go with her. That they could _all_ go with her. It wasn't fucking _fair_ to send her back alone to strangers with familiar faces. And so he had decided that i f he couldn't follow her, he'd make damn sure every _other_ “him” would be able to pick up where _he_ left off. Establish some kind of routine or tradition for all of “him” to give Homura some measure of constancy.

And here he was, thinking of himself in the third person plural and making _perfect sense_. His life was many things but it would never be dull.

Ichigo had already filled an entire notebook with both a more coherent proof of authorship and painstaking details about everything that happened when he interacted with Homura, what he thought about her behavior, and what others said about her. It felt _super_ stalkery, but he needed to learn more about her to pass down if Homura got reticent again. He thought he had laid a decent foundation for the next “him,” but he needed more. So he asked Zangetsu to help him remember little things to write down later. Little preferences and tastes like he knew about his sisters-- material for another “him” to make small gestures of inclusion to her.

So. Homura liked two pumps of almond syrup in her iced coffee-- easy on the ice. She liked Almond Crush Pocky. She liked chocolate syrup on her vanilla ice cream, but not very much of it. She preferred water to soda and bun cha over pho. If she borrowed clothes from the twins, she leaned more toward Yuzu's closet than Karin's. She didn't seem very enthusiastic about playing video games, but she was content to watch others play. She enjoyed soccer-- wasn't as obsessed as Karin, but was capable of being just as intense in the moment. She observed Yuzu's cooking intently, as though trying to learn. She listened more than she spoke. She eyed the rest of them oddly when the family got wild while they ate-- something between _what the hell is happening_ , _I don't know you people_ , and _I am judging you_ \-- and had impeccable manners. She willingly subjected herself to hell for her best friend's sake. She had an easy friendship with Karin and Yuzu, wavered between welcome and wariness of Isshin, demonstrated some degree of respect for Tōshirō, and was _pissed_ at Urahara's games. She had deep curiosity and a subtle sense of humor, even though a lot of humor seemed to fly right over her head. She hated being denied information or being interfered with without warning.

It wasn't enough, but it was something.

Ichigo led Homura to his usual thinking-bench by the river and noted that she hesitated before sitting, choosing a spot not quite all the way to the opposite end of the bench. He waited her out, thinking of a group text he had received from Tōshirō noting that he had managed to have a decently long conversation with her by minimizing eye contact and not pressuring her to speak. So he relaxed, sipping his coffee and watching the soothing ripples of water and light playing in the river until the girl stopped shifting uncomfortably and settled in her seat.

“So. I'm not stupid enough to start with _how are you doing_ , since you're obviously not doing well,” Ichigo began.

“Obviously,” Homura muttered darkly.

Ichigo ignored it. “So I'm just gonna jump straight to I know how _shitty_ it is when an enemy swoops in from nowhere and fucks with your friends while you're trying to figure out what the hell is going on at the same time you're trying to get stronger to protect them. It's a really, _really_ shitty feeling I wouldn't wish on anyone. Screws with your head.” He calmly sipped his coffee, not looking at the girl though he was very aware of her stare.

“What makes you think you know?” she asked slowly.

So he told her about the entire Xcution debacle a year past. How the monotony of his powerless existence was broken by the arrival of the Xcution Fullbringers and their offer of training in a new power. How Ishida had been mysteriously attacked, the looming threat of Tsukishima, Ichigo's desperate struggle to master his Fullbring and be _useful_ again, the horror of realizing Tsukishima had interfered with everyone's memories to make them think he was a faithful ally who had been by their sides through all their struggles in spiritual matters. The sheer confusion and paranoia of it all, of people Ichigo cared about having radically different memories from his, making him question his own sanity. His friendship with Ginjō, which ended with a stab from Tsukishima's Book of the End memory-altering blade and the revelation that the entire Xcution crew had gone so far as to have their memories of plotting against Ichigo altered to make their act perfect, cultivating his powers to steal them. How he had literally cried in despair in the rain at the second loss of his ability to fight until Urahara showed up with that brilliant sword of light containing whispers of the reiatsu of so _many_ of his shinigami comrades, all sweeping through him to rekindle his power. The dramatic reappearance of Thirteen Divisions leadership to fight at his side again. Riruka throwing herself between Ichigo and Tsukishima's last desperate attack. The bittersweet victory.

It was a long story and took a long time to deliver, but Homura sat through the entire thing in rapt attention. Her only interruptions were requests to define spiritual terms new to her. He was pretty sure she'd be asking others for clarification later because that was the sort of explanation he had trouble with. They sat in companionable silence for a long while after. When Homura finally spoke, it was not to question the basis of his empathy.

“It all sounds very... Shakespearean,” she commented. “Themes of identity, illusion, conspiracy, betrayal....”

Ichigo burst out laughing. “I'd never thought of it that way before!” He laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. “Oh, God, it applies to the start of the Winter War, too. I need to tell Ishida. He thinks Shakespeare has little relevance to modern times. It's all lit nerd hype, or something.” He laughed again at the look on Homura's face and poked her forehead. “You're pretty Shakespearean too, you know.”

Homura frowned in a way that came damn near pouting and batted his hand away. “Am not,” she groused.

“Are you kidding? You burst onto the scene all--” he threw his arms into a dramatic pose to gesture with his coffee cup and raised his chin to speak skyward in a lofty voice, switching to English-- “My lord, I have remembrances of yours That I have longèd long to redeliver! I pray you now receive them!”

Her eyes and mouth went wide in surprise. She blinked rapidly, then looked at him askance. “ _Ophelia?_ ”

Ichigo couldn't help it. He perked up like an eager puppy. “You know _Hamlet_?! In _English?!_ ”

Homura ignored him and looked appalled. “You are comparing me to _Ophelia?!_ ”

“That line fits! You came in and gave us our mementos--”

“Ophelia _literally lost her mind and drowned in despair_ ,” Homura said in disgust.

“...Oh.” Well, fuck. That wasn't where he had wanted this conversation to go. “You... don't do that, okay?”

She rolled her eyes powerfully and looked away. Bitterly, she said, “A Shakespearean tragedy suits me, I suppose.”

“No. Comedy,” Ichigo immediately argued.

She gave him another incredulous look. “My life may be a cosmic joke but it certainly isn't a _funny_ one. ”

“No, no, comedy in the old-timey meaning,” Ichigo said with a placating wave of his arms. “You know-- a stage play with a happy ending. Or just... anything serious with a happy ending, like Dante's _Divine Comedy_. Though... that usage kinda predates Shakespeare. People in his day may have said tragicomedy.”

“What?”

Somehow, he ended up passionately babbling to her about the history of tragedy and comedy. The weird looks she gave him made him awkwardly delve deeper and move into Shakespeare until her face was equal parts bewildered and interested and he couldn't stop rambling why couldn't he stop rambling.

“How do you know all this?” Homura finally asked.

“I'm aiming for a degree in Western literature,” Ichigo explained. “I've been fascinated by Shakespeare since I was a kid. Found an old dual-language edition in my mom's things when I was ten and started working it out myself. I figure I'm gonna have a ton of responsibility and spend a lot of time in offices and on battlefields once I become a shinigami full time, so I should do something fun for the rest of my... physical life, or whatever.” He grinned. “I'm planning to throw in some pol sci, military history, business administration, and sports science or coaching to use after death. My resumé is going to be ridiculous.”

“Oh.”

“How do _you_ know Shakespeare?” Ichigo asked curiously.

Homura looked down at her empty cup. “My mother was... fond... of theater. Ballet, opera, plays.” He stayed quiet as she fidgeted, waiting for her to continue. “She... wanted me to be able to get out of the house. Have fun, see people. Since I couldn't go to school to make friends, or play sports, or... do much of anything physical, really. She took me to opera houses and theaters a couple times a week, if I was well enough. Then I could recover from the walk to our seats while being entertained for a few hours by whatever was on stage. If I was unwell, she would watch videos with me or help me read the plays.” She morosely watched her hands picking at the rim of the paper cup until it ripped, then slowly tore the rim off in one long strip with nimble fingers. “Besides Japanese, my mother... was fluent in English, French, and Russian. She was trying to learn Italian to better understand opera when she... died. She wanted to expose me to many languages.”

It struck Ichigo that sharing this was probably a huge step for her. He couldn't fuck this up. Absolutely could not afford to. “Did you pick up all those languages from her?”

She glanced at him, then to the river. Ichigo turned back to the river as well.

“To a degree,” Homura said quietly. “Mostly English and French.”

Ichigo grinned. “At least they both use the same alphabet.”

Homura didn't speak, but made a quiet sound of amusement.

Awesome. Ichigo grinned wider and said, “So you like Shakespeare's plays?”

“I suppose. Mostly as context,” Homura answered. “The dialogue can be tiresome. I prefer the ballets.”

Ichigo blinked in surprise and looked at her again. “There are ballets of Shakespeare's plays?”

“Of course. Some of the musical accompaniment is quite well-known out of context.” Homura turned to him and arched an eyebrow. “After all you said, I thought you would be familiar with everything Shakespeare.”

Ichigo's cheeks burned and he laughed awkwardly. “Apparently not.” He scrubbed at his scalp self-consciously and said, “Ballets don't have talking, right? So how do they tell the story?”

Homura shifted to angle her entire body more in his direction and looked at him directly, face intense in the way of someone seriously knowledgeable of a subject feeling compelled to share-- as he had probably been. “There is a great deal of pantomime involved in the classics. There is also significance in the dance moves chosen. For example, the sequence of thirty-two fouettés performed by Odile in _Swan Lake_ are a feat of endurance and ostentatious effort to impress and seduce Prince Siegfried. Also, particular instruments in a score may be used to represent different characters, such as Tchaikovsky's _Romeo and Juliet Overture-Fantasy_ using the English horn to represent Romeo and the flute to represent Juliet. When all of these factors are combined, it is possible to tell a detailed story through silent dance. The plays with dialogue are useful for context and further depth to the ballets.”

Ichigo stared at her the same way she had stared at him. “So like... musical charades?”

Homura looked hilariously offended.

“Just kidding.” Another wide grin slowly overtook his face. “Oh, man, I need you to teach me how to interpret Shakespeare ballets. You're amazing.”

She stiffened in surprise. Cheeks flushed, she turned away from him again and stammered, “It is a simple matter of mem-- memorizing hand gestures, dance steps, and noticing the coincidence of musical motifs with particular dancers.”

“Nah, I think it's more than that. But even just that would be awesome,” Ichigo argued. “You're a step above me. We both know that screwy old Shakespearean English, but you learned an entire other language to appreciate another version of the same things. I have some studying to do.”

Homura squirmed, tried to wring her hands, and settled for tearing her paper cup more. Apparently, she was awkward about receiving compliments.

Ichigo leaned back in a sprawl on the back of the bench, twirling his own empty cup by the tips of his fingers. “You like ballet a lot, huh?”

“Yes,” she bit out, still looking away from him.

“So, you dance?”

Homura's body and reiatsu went rigid and Ichigo cursed himself for however he had just misstepped.

“No,” she said with complete lack of emotion. “Dance is an extremely strenuous physical activity. My health would not permit it.”

“...Oh.” Fuck fuck fuck. He'd depressed her. _Fix it fix it fix it!_ “But you're healthy now, right? I mean, you can play _soccer_ without having a heart attack now, right?”

“Yes.”

“So you can dance now!”

“No,” Homura snapped. “I do not have the time or energy to waste to dedicate to such a frivolous activity.”

Brr. But he could understand the attitude-- she was as focused on saving her Madoka as he had once been on saving Rukia, Orihime, his family. So he wouldn't argue against that priority. But how could he work with that...? “Right. Then... I know! That can be the last scene of your comedy.”

She was startled into turning back to him to give him a look that declared _you have lost your mind_. “What?”

“The happy ending for your play,” Ichigo explained. “When all the magical spirit bullshit is over and you finally have a lot of downtime, you can dance. Be a ballerina in your epilogue.”

Homura's mouth dropped open into an O of surprise.

“Be forewarned-- Dad will take _tons_ of pictures and cry at your recitals,” Ichigo said with a triumphant grin. Homura just stared, mouth working without sound. He was quite pleased with himself for making her speechless for a _good_ reason for once.

Finally, she cut her eyes away from him and went for a graceless change of subject. “Why are you doing this? You dragged me out here to talk about Sōju and Tomoe and Urahara, didn't you?” she said gruffly.

Ah, he'd spooked her by getting too close to an old wound. He'd count it as a win, though-- she had gotten far more personal with him than he had expected before their conversation detoured. Ichigo wondered if Rukia had felt something like this in the aftermath of learning the details of his mother's death.

Satisfied by progress, Ichigo didn't rise to the bait of Homura's confrontational tone. He just shrugged and said, “I don't recall dragging you anywhere.”

Homura dropped what was left of her cup and clenched her fists.

“And I thought we were having a pretty pleasant conversation. As friends do.”

“But _why?_ ” she demanded.

“Why is it surprising that I would want to get to know you better?”

“No one _really_ wants to know me.”

“Liar,” he drawled. Then he looked at her askance, thoughtful. “Or do you really not know?”

She turned back to him with a scowl. “I would know better than anyone,” she argued.

“I really don't think you do,” Ichigo said. “You try not to _let_ people get close to you. And you keep getting pissed off lately because you've been slipping and letting people get close to you again. Or clos _er_ , at least.”

And now he'd gone and pissed her off with his bluntness. Furious, Homura snapped, “What would you have me do?! I lose either way. If I avoid making ties until I know a timeline is a success, I ruin potential relationships. If I make ties hoping a timeline will be the last, it explodes in my face when I reset to a time before those ties were forged. I can't win!” Voice raising in anger, she lifted and shook her hands in a motion pantomiming both grabbing her head to shake it and begging in frustration. “What would you have me _do?!_ ”

He met her pained eyes seriously. “Admit it hurts you instead of pretending it's... just an inconvenience to whatever plans you make. Let yourself be pissed off that it isn't fair.”

“What purpose would that serve?!”

“You can be pissed off at circumstances instead of snapping at your friends, for one. And you can turn around and use that pain to push you forward-- toward defying and defeating the cause instead of the... bystanders. If you just ignore it and bottle it up, it'll eventually sneak up on you and bite you. Probably at the worst possible time. The surprise will make it hurt more. It'll pop up and drag you backward. You'll lose hard-won ground.” Ichigo tilted his head and went quiet for a moment, listening to Zangetsu's unexpected commentary. He slowly continued, “My zanpakutō spirit says this... thing... to me when I'm feeling defeated or hopeless. 'Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop. You'll age if you pull back. You'll die if you hesitate.'”

Homura glared at him with incredulous confusion, then looked defiant. “Stopping and going backward are _the basis of my powers_.”

“Nah,” Ichigo said with a wave. “You're looking at it wrong. You stop _everyone else_ , not yourself. And you don't go backward, you _loop_.”

Her face twisted in bafflement. “What difference does that make?”

“You can go forward by going backward.”

“What.”

Ichigo gestured vaguely as he cast about for some way to explain what made sense as he envisioned it in his head. “Think like... you're running on a racetrack. You know, one of those oval ones? When you loop around the far side, you're technically going the opposite direction of how you started, right? But you're still moving forward. It's, like... a matter of perspective. Or something.” He shrugged lightly. “Unless you _allow it_ to be the other way. Stopping yourself and pushing yourself back, I mean. Reversing to the starting line instead of lapping that line and going farther.”

Homura wavered uncertainly. In his head, Zangetsu was silent but pleased.

“As for not being able to win,” Ichigo continued, “my zanpakutō always tells me that can only happen when you despair and cease to walk forward. So keep moving forward. Try to look at each loop as... instead of... no. Uh.” He scratched his head. “You have all of us now. Instead of thinking we're going away every time you loop, look at it as passing the starting line again with all our mementos and stuff-- like we're giving you the baton for a relay race with other 'us'es!” Satisfied with the metaphor, he let his grin sharpen and added, “We're on your team and _beyond_ competitive. We wanna win the relay race with you.”

The girl stared at him for a long time, silent and conflicted. Ichigo relaxed outwardly and fervently hoped he hadn't said something stupid. He started to tense and fought not to squirm as the silence dragged, tried to focus on the river and birdsong until Homura had turned it all over in her head enough to respond. _If_ she'd respond.

“Even if that is true of you,” Homura eventually said slowly, “it is not true of my friends in Mitakihara and never has been.”

That was the warmest descriptor Ichigo had heard her use for the Mitakihara girls. He decided not to call attention to it. “Only if you let it be. Pass them the baton.”

“I _tried_ to involve them,” she growled in frustration. “They don't _listen!_ ”

“Welllllllllll.” Ichigo rolled his neck and worked his jaw in thought. “Pass their batons to us, and _we'll_ relay them to them. To the girls, I mean. Teamwork.” He smiled at her again. “Clue them in to the time travel and let us help recruit them for the team next time around. You've done a pretty good job yourself this time, though.”

Homura pursed her lips and searched him with narrowed eyes. “You are _far_ too optimistic.”

Ichigo playfully pointed at her. “And _you_ are far too pessimistic. We'll just have to balance out.”

The girl scowled down at her lap, where she was clenching her hands in her skirt. After another long pause, she quietly said, “After the way I behaved, they will want nothing to do with me now. I know how this ends.”

“Nah,” Ichigo said. “I texted Tōshirō to ask about them. They're all worried sick about you.”

Homura glanced up at him from the corners of her eyes. “Why would they be worried? I was cruel.”

“Because they've gotten to know you enough this time around to know that it's out of character for you,” Ichigo said. He ignored her scoff. “They got close enough to you this time to see that you lashing out is a thing you do when you're in pain or afraid. A lot of people do that.” At her skeptical frown, he continued, “I'm not saying letting them get close to you and looping isn't painful, but, like... letting them get close means you don't have to resist _them_ on top of the Incubator. Less stress and wasted time that way. Also... I think you blowing up like the other night could be the... everything you try to ignore catching up to you and surprising you into reacting in one of the worst ways you could. That right there is why you need to really work on that bottling up thing. You're like a soda bottle. The longer you stay closed up and let the world shake you, the bigger the messy explosion when you finally can't keep the cap on anymore. At least if you shake an open bottle, there's some splashing but no explosion.”

She gave him a weird look for a long time, then said, “You make excessive use of metaphors.”

Ichigo laughed. “Lit major, remember?” He grinned at her playfully, but his eyes were serious as he quoted Shakespeare again. “If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favors nor your hate.”

Homura frowned. “But I _do_ know.”

“But you've been surprised this time.”

The girl's face darkened back into a stormy scowl. “Due to new variables.”

“Right. So how can you say you know how things will turn out? You haven't been to the end of the line with the variables we've added, and we still have a lot of variables we can add if we want.”

Homura stared at him and quietly said, “I do not like unknown variables.”

Probably one of the truest things she'd said. “How has using only your _known_ variables worked out for you?” he said, not unkindly.

She looked away, hurt. “I just need to combine them correctly,” she said softly, failing to suppress a quiet desperation.

“And what if it turns out they'd slot together easier if you had a few extra pieces to fill in the gaps?”

Homura frowned mulishly and wouldn't look at him.

“You're only making it harder on yourself. Resisting help.”

“Urahara's 'help' is disruptive.”

“Yeah, he can be a dick. We're working on that. But I think your biggest problem with him sticking his nose in your business is that it's _different_. And you don't like different.”

“So?” she said defiantly.

“So with all the _same_ things you're used to working with, it's not surprising you get the _same_ kind of outcome,” Ichigo said drily. “If you want a different outcome, different is what you _need_. Otherwise, you're just sabotaging yourself.”

Homura crossed her arms and looked downright sulky.

Ichigo let her stew for a minute before venturing, “So I heard that the new Nagisa girl is the one that you finally snapped over.”

“You are all _terrible gossips_ ,” Homura hissed.

“Basically,” Ichigo admitted, unrepentant. “Because we care. What is it about that kid that has you so prickly?”

A muscle jumped in Homura's jaw. “In every other timeline, _she_ becomes the Witch that often kills Mami. Her weapon looks like the form that devours Mami. And it seems likely she met Mami in those timelines, too. And ate her anyway.”

Oh.

Well.

That... actually explained _a lot_.

“Uh... she's not the Witch, though,” he said cautiously.

Homura looked at him sideways and spoke as though he was stupid. “I am aware of that.”

“You don't act like it. Don't take it out on her.”

“You say that as though it is a simple thing.”

Ichigo scrubbed his hands through his hair and sighed. “I know it's easier said than done. But, like... some of my best friends are people who tried to kill me the first time we met, so....”

“Perhaps I am not as forgiving as you.”

“But what is there to forgive?” Ichigo asked. “That kid hasn't done anything in this timeline.”

Homura leaned forward and looked at him sideways with the detached, morbid interest Ichigo saw on people looking at car wrecks. She tilted her head back and looked at him with steely, heavy-lidded eyes. “If I was to turn back time again,” she said with predatory slowness, “would you expect me to apply such goodwill to Sōju? Would you hate me if I put a bullet through her Soul Gems at my earliest convenience because of what she did in this timeline, but had yet to do in that timeline?”

Ichigo scowled and jabbed a finger at her. “You are making an unfair comparison and you _damn_ well know it. That Sōju girl was a serial killer of her own free will for _months_ , not a soul insane with grief. And Nagisa is not insane with grief.”

“Yet.”

Ichigo heaved a frustrated sigh, dragged his hands down his face, and wondered if her obstinacy was real or a front. “Right. Fine. Whatever. I'm not gonna argue over splitting hairs with you.”

She cut her eyes away again. Ichigo hadn't meant it as an accusation, but it seemed he'd nailed her ploy to a wall.

“Actually, wait, no, I _am_ gonna split hairs,” Ichigo declared to her immediate glare. “Didn't you say Madoka has turned into a Witch before?”

Homura flinched and gave him a look that screamed _how dare you_. “Yes.”

“Right. But whenever you loop, you don't blame her for turning into a Witch before, right?”

The magical girl stared at him blankly.

“And you're getting along with Sayaka this time even though she's turned into a Witch a lot, right? Because you're actively _trying_ to? Get along with her, I mean.”

Homura's face did not change.

“Have you ever seen the other girls-- Mami and... Kyōko, right? Have you ever seen them turn into Witches?”

“Yes,” Homura admitted grudgingly.

“You said Nagisa's weapon reminds you of her Witch. Does that happen with the other girls?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

Homura shifted in discomfort and emotionlessly said, “The Mermaid Witch uses Sayaka's cutlasses. The Dress-Up Witch uses Mami's ribbons. The Wǔdàn Witch wields a spear, though it is different from Kyōko's.”

“But you can work with those girls when you try, can't you?”

Homura frowned and averted her eyes.

Ichigo tilted his head and considered her for a minute. Thinking aloud, he said, “But Nagisa's new, so you don't know her and you're not used to having to try with her.” He waited for her to deny it, but she didn't. “Seeing her weapon is like a slap in the face or something. And you knew _her Witch_ before you knew _her_ , which is backwards from the other girls.”

After a pause, Homura nodded once.

Carefully, Ichigo said, “And dealing with her's _on top of_ all the other new stuff you never had to deal with, right?”

“Yes.”

“I think you're just... _really_ overwhelmed,” Ichigo ventured after a thoughtful silence.

Homura looked at him briefly, then back to the river. “...Yes. I am,” she said reluctantly.

Yes, yes, _yes_. She admitted it! Uh, now what? “So like... I think you have way too much on your plate to eat yourself. Share some of it. Dish it out. Delegate, as Tōshirō would say,” Ichigo said more firmly. “If you let some of us take on more of the figuring things out and whatever-- if you can trust us with that without you having to be directly involved or controlling everything-- you have more time to just... be.”

The girl looked at him askance with a frown of confusion.

“I mean... hang out with your friends. Learn more about Nagisa so she's more than just the face of that one Witch. Chill behind the curtain while the rest of us are on stage. Wait for a scene change before coming on so things aren't chaotic. Stop trying to eat breakfast, dinner, and dessert at the same time.”

“Now you are _mixing_ your metaphors,” Homura said tartly.

Brat. “Oh, hey, you're actually listening to what I say,” Ichigo retorted with a grin.

Homura sighed and tipped her head back to look at the sky. “It is... difficult to do so.”

“To listen to me?” Ichigo teased.

She gave him an unamused look. “You know what I mean.”

“Just kidding,” he said with a smirk. “I know. But it's just a different kind of challenge. And you're damn good at rising to a challenge.”

She looked at him searchingly for a long minute. “You have... faith... in me?”

“Absolutely,” Ichigo said without hesitation. He still sucked at fine manipulation of his own reiatsu, but he tried to will his earnestness to reach her. “You just have to have some faith in _me_. I don't expect you to be... flawless or perfect or one-hundred-percent badass amazing. Everyone stumbles. But I'll be behind you to catch you when you do. Everyone will, really. But I swear I'll have your back. Never question that you have my support. And I'll make for damn sure that if you go back again, you have the right stuff to give to another me to make sure that stays true.”

Homura stared at him for a long while, then asked, “Because I am vital to your interests? Or you pity me?”

Trying to push him away again, make it impersonal. “No,” Ichigo disagreed with a scowl. “Because that's what big brothers are for.” He leaned toward her until he was nearly forehead to forehead with her and fiercely looked in her startled eyes. “You're my honorary little sister now. You're not getting rid of me. Anyone who messes with _you_ messes with _me_ \-- which is why I'm going to be tag-teaming with Dad to set Sandal-Hat straight. He pulls shit you can't work around without cracking his skull, or setting his shop on fire starts sounding like a good idea, you call _me_. I'll have words with him. With my _fists_ if necessary. ”

Wide violet eyes shimmered with wetness. Most of his words seemed to have sailed over her head as she just stammered, “B-brother?”

Ichigo's face softened in affection. “Yep. Get used to it.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “So you can talk to me about how shitty things get. I have at least _some_ experience with the whole fighting the odds for your friends thing. I don't mind if you come crying to me over some way the world is screwing you over. I can relate,” he said ruefully. “I don't mind if you come cry to me over something you think is silly, either. Sometimes it's the little things that bug us the most, yeah?”

“I can't-- I can't-- cry,” Homura said hoarsely.

“Yes, you can.” He tilted his head and debated whether or not to say something. Screw it. “From what little I could hear from my room the other night, you cried with the twins.”

Homura shook her head. “It's-- it's different. With you. With... others.”

“Why?”

The girl twisted her skirt in her hands and looked like she was struggling for words. “I need to be-- to look--” she released her clothing and gestured frustration with her hands-- “If I want to be respected by those of you who are older, I must behave appropriately. And that does not include crying.”

Ichigo looked at her askance for a moment, then lightly said, “It's okay to cry. Adults cry. I cry sometimes when it looks like nothing I do is helping save someone from danger. Didn't I just tell you I outright bawled on a battlefield last year?”

Homura looked up at him from behind her bangs, eyelashes damp. “I cannot allow myself to despair. I must force myself not to.”

True. But-- “Better to let it out than bottle it up until you can't hold it anymore.” He smiled wryly. “Didn't I just say? Splashes are better than explosions.” When she just frowned down at her shoes again, he reached over and tilted her head up with a gentle fingertip to her chin. As soon as she looked at him, he smiled as gently as he could. “Besides, what kind of big brother would I be if my little sister couldn't come crying to me about anything and everything without worrying I'd think any less of her?”

Homura's face shifted with a jumble of emotions leaning most toward grimaces of anguish between hesitation and a look like he was some kind of mythological creature she had stumbled upon. She choked on a quiet sob and raised her arms, still looking wary, but Ichigo could see the moment when her wall crumbled. Tears streamed down her face and she leaned toward him. He hugged her and let her just cry for awhile.

“Tell me,” he said in an undertone when she slowed.

“It's har-ard. Ev-ver-ry-one is the same _and_ different and it's _hard_ to be-- to be-- but I want to be with-- I _want_ \-- but it-- it--”

“It what?” he murmured.

“It-- it hurts. It _hurts_.”

Ichigo mentally pumped a fist in victory as he patted her shoulder. It was like pulling teeth, but yes! Progress! He took a deep breath. “Sometimes moving forward is like crawling over hot coals and broken glass. But if you keep going, you'll eventually come out on the other side. You'll get through it. And we'll carry you over whatever patches we can. In the meantime... well, since it's gonna hurt anyway, you may as well grab some hot coals to throw at enemies along the way instead of trying to avoid the unavoidable.”

Homura snorted and warbled a crying laugh into his shoulder. Beautiful.

“I-- I'll try,” she rasped. “But I... don't want to go back again,” Homura admitted quietly. “Things are... better this time. Even though it's still... hard. I want this to be the last time. I am... tired.”

Ichigo heaved a deep sigh. _God_ he hated that they were probably sending her back again. “I understand. I hope for that, too. But you have to prepare just in case.”

“I know,” Homura mumbled.

“And I know you kinda have to be tough as nails up in Mitakihara even if you get close to your friends again. But you don't have to be like that with me and Dad and the girls, okay? And you can let Tōshirō and Sandal-Hat and Tessai take over some of the toughness when you need to check out for a bit.”

Homura nodded, then sat back and rubbed her eyes. After a deep breath, she tilted her head toward the sky with her eyes closed and just sat quietly for a bit. Ichigo let her. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes and leveled her face again. She looked far more at ease.

“Better?” Ichigo asked quietly.

Violet eyes slid his way and watched him pensively. “Better,” Homura said firmly.

A slow grin stole over Ichigo's face. “I'm glad.” He glanced at his phone for the time and realized it was mid-afternoon. “We have a couple hours before the girls get out of school,” he said, glancing at her and raising his brows. “Anything you wanna do or see?” Homura shrugged disinterestedly, so he thought hard. Ichigo couldn't think of any attractions or movies or anything. He thought back over their conversation. “Wanna go home and you can start teaching me about Shakespearean ballet on the glorious internets?”

Homura turned and gave him her full attention, eyes brightening with interest breaking through clouds of melancholy. “Yes.”

“Awesome.” Ichigo slapped his hands on his knees and stood. “Pick up your trash and let's go. This should be fun.”

The walk home was quiet but comfortable. Ichigo thought-- hoped-- he had gained some ground with her. Now he had to keep it well enough to pass on.

Well, he had a lot to write about now. Like... he needed to buy another notebook. Also, he needed to look up some ballet stuff or something on his breaks between sessions of studying the old Quincy histories Ishida was delegating to his housemates to read for clues. Maybe find some kind of meaningful ballet-ish gift to give Homura to take with her... beyond.

God, he really did have a big brother complex.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've always felt like there's too much ballet associated with Homura in Rebellion, the Madogatari Concept Movie, and now her transformation in Magia Record for it to be entirely coincidental. Thus my headcanon.


	63. ZWEIUNDSECHZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter somehow mutated into a character study of Urahara and Benihime because they just kept talking and I was okay with their examination of motives. Idk idk.
> 
> ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !  
> My headcanon is that Benihime has a collection of different kinds of looms and sewing-related stuff in Urahara's Inner World. So, like... while I think you can get the gist of their conversation without specifics, you may want to look at my list of weaving terminology before you read this chapter for more detailed understanding. I have Benihime extensively use it as metaphor. The list is here:   
> corisanna.  
> Deviantart.  
> com/journal/Weaving-Terms-Info-as-regards-Benihime-717849840
> 
> IF YOU'RE EXTRA CURIOUS, I included some YouTube videos afterward to support why I think making Urahara's zanpakutō that sews and “restructures” would also be a weaver-- how it does suit his complex, scheming, meticulous, inventive mind.
> 
> 95% of anything involving Benihime is my own artistic license since we got so little info in canon.

§ x § x §

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**ZWEIUNDSECHZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Kisuke saw Hitsugaya and Tomoe off to school on Monday morning like a good uncle and immediately sequestered himself in his labs once more. He was certain he had perfected his surveillance drone design as much as he could with the information he had; now he just had to replicate them with superficial differences. He was deep in his work when Tessai buzzed him from the shop.

“Boss, you might want to come out here.”

“What for?”

“I sense two slightly elevated reiatsu signatures coming straight our way. Doesn't feel hostile, but since they're a rarity up here....”

Tossing his magnification goggles aside, Kisuke rose and sang, “Coming right up~!”

He was innocently fussing around behind the counter when the possessors of the reiatsu crossed the wards onto the property without triggering alarms. Good-- well, hopefully. Kisuke made a point of not looking toward the door until the shop bells jingled. He turned and paused briefly, keeping recognition off his face by force of will before greeting the guests. “Welcome to High Spirits! I'm Kisuke Urahara. How can I help you?”

“Ah, my daughter recommended this shop,” the brunet man said as he adjusted his grip on the toddler in his arms.

“Is that so?” Kisuke asked cheerfully. “May I ask who she is?”

“Madoka Kaname,” Tomohisa Kaname said. “She told me she and her friends came to visit your nephew and she sampled the merchandise.”

Kisuke let his face brighten. “Miss Kaname? Oh, my, yes. Such a kind girl. And your name?” he asked as a formality.

“Tomohisa,” Madoka's father said. He poked his son's pudgy cheek and said, “And _this_ is Tatsuya.”

At his name, the toddler perked up and shouted, “Hiiiiiii!”

“Helloooooo!” Kisuke crooned back with a silly face that made the toddler giggle. Mentally, he was evaluating both their reiatsu signatures and trying to rearrange puzzle pieces. Kaname's father and brother had spiritual potential. That had never been considered. The mother? Hitsugaya hadn't mentioned anything, and he was diligent in his reports. Yoruichi, though....

Tomohisa glanced around the shop soberly, then eyed Kisuke for a long minute. “You're the real deal.”

“Indeed, I am,” he said with an amused smile.

“Are you the one who gave my daughter a protective charm bracelet?”

“Ahhhh. Yes, that was me.”

“Thank you,” Tomohisa said with a solemn nod. “Do you have any more of them?”

“I designed the two I made for your daughter and Miss Miki specifically tailored to them, but I could make more. Why do you ask?”

Tomohisa pursed his lips and considered his words. “There have been some... odd things I've been noticing lately. Spiritually speaking, I mean.”

Kisuke revised his findings: The father had weak powers _and was aware of them_. “Oh, my. Are you spiritually aware?”

Smiling wryly, Tomohisa said,. “Not enough to really _do_ anything. I can hear spirits. Sometimes see them, depending on how....” He struggled for words, gesturing vaguely with his free hand. “How strong they feel. But mostly, I sense them. It's difficult to describe. Like... the closest thing I can think of is how you can walk in a room and pick up a lingering smell that tells you something has been there, like that someone baked bread or made coffee even though there's no bread or coffee left in the room. But not a scent. Just....”

“A feeling. That makes the hair stand up on your skin,” Kisuke finished, fascinated. How the _hell_ had he not considered this possibility when he doing cursory research on all the known magical girls' families?

Cursory. Dammit. _Nothing_ could be taken at face value with this situation. He should have known better.

Too much to investigate at once. It was making him sloppy. He fiercely hated it. Loved new information but _hated_ when he couldn't absorb it all at once. When he had been dealing with Aizen, the Hōgyoku, the Arrancar, and the Visored, he had nearly a hundred years to research and plot, familiarizing himself with every aspect in minute detail. He had even gotten nearly two decades of research on Quincy tossed in just in case it would be useful when dealing with Ichigo's hodgepodge of powers. But with this situation, there wasn't enough damn _time_ to learn as much as he needed to. Which was why he needed Akemi to go back. If he could just distill information _faster_ , she wouldn't need to. So he needed to cram as much research as possible into each timeline to minimize her repetitions.

“Yes. Exactly.”

What? Oh. And now Kisuke was distracting himself.

_Slow down before you drop the shuttle through the warp_ , Benihime scolded him in a whisper, her voice like rustling silk.

Kisuke thought for a moment, then waved Tomohisa over. “Please, come in the back and sit with me. I think we should talk more and we may as well be comfortable.”

He nodded in parting to Tessai and led the father and child through the connecting hallway to the living quarters, and from there to a tea room he had rigged with cameras and sensors. Tomohisa pulled some toys out of a diaper bag and plopped his son among them on the floor before retreating to the table with Kisuke, who set out tea.

Kisuke folded his hands together on the tabletop and said, “So, Mr. Kaname. What are your concerns?”

Tomohisa frowned. “There have been a couple times when my daughter came home with a sense of... something dark clinging to her. It fades very quickly-- probably because of her power--”

Kisuke raised one eyebrow and reached for his cup. “You are aware of her power?”

“I'd have to be completely without power and utterly oblivious to _not_ notice it,” Tomohisa said drily. “Especially since it skyrocketed a few weeks ago.”

Kisuke paused in lifting teacup to his lips. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Her power practically exploded when she was asleep a few weeks ago. It woke me out of a dead sleep,” Tomohisa said gravely. “I checked on her and she was twitching and making faces as though having a nightmare. She was glowing pink and the stuff on her shelves was rattling around.”

What.

“I couldn't wake her up even by shaking her and flaring my own power. I was like a garden hose fighting a river. I... kind of panicked. Thought maybe she was having a seizure. I left the room to get my wife but Madoka's power suddenly stabilized and settled. I peeked in her room and she was sitting up like nothing had happened. Later, she mentioned something about a dream. Her power has been slowly strengthening ever since. It jumps a bit more every time she comes home with that feeling of darkness like the cursed spirits I used to run into before I moved here.”

What.

“I think her power kind of... burns it off, or purifies it or something. It's always gone by morning.”

What.

Kisuke stared, mind whirling. “Cursed spirits?”

“I think? That's what my grandfather called them, anyway,” the man answered, further upsetting Kisuke's mental chess set. “They always have white masks and holes in their chests. They look like monsters and are see-through. I thought they were demons until I saw one with my grandfather and he explained what little he knew.”

“Wait. Spiritual awareness runs in your family?”

Tomohisa shrugged. “To a degree. But not everyone gets it.”

This was delicious information. “Do you see those spirits often?”

“Hardly any since I moved here when Madoka was a baby-- Tatsuya, no, don't touch it.” The man frowned at his son until the child came down from his tiptoes at the edge of a bookshelf. When the toddler lost interest and tottered back to his toys, Tomohisa continued, “And when I do, it's on the edges of town, several years apart. Very few plain ghosts, even. That's actually _why_ we moved here. My wife had a long international business conference here when Madoka was four months old. We came with and rented an apartment for a month so Junko wouldn't be separated from our baby and we could stay after for a vacation. I didn't encounter a single spirit the entire time we were here. It was much safer for me and Madoka. My wife put in for a transfer here before the last day of the conference and we only went back to our apartment in Soma to get our things. We figured we'd tell Madoka when she was old enough to know to keep it secret. Have a vacation in Soma or somewhere with a lot of ghosts to teach her what to look for and what to run from.”

Boom. Entire game board changed. By how much? “Is your wife spiritually aware?”

“Not at all!” Tomohisa laughed. “But she knows I am, and that Madoka is. She knew I was before we married and thought it was cool. She knew Madoka was before we even left the hospital with her-- she caught me talking to a couple ghosts that went to Madoka's crib to look at her. Then I ended up quitting my job when Madoka was two months old when I saw a cursed spirit hanging around her daycare. I could at least get her away from them when they popped up.” He nodded toward Tatsuya. “Our son also has some power. That's why I came to your shop. I want something like that bracelet for him, too. And I'm considering having a talk with Madoka. I haven't seen those spirits here, but with the dark feeling that clings to Madoka sometimes and that cat spirit that got in our house... and all since her power spiked... I worry it's not coincidence.”

Kisuke stared. “Cat spirit?”

“I don't know what else to call it. I haven't seen it myself, but Madoka said it was a white cat. It got in her window-- supposedly. I don't know what would have happened had her friend's cat not been there. I'm looking into getting a cat for us. They're great at detecting spirits, after all. ”

Kisuke stared. Yoruichi was going to get grilled over this. She should have told him.

_How lucid were you during her verbal report?_ Benihime asked, slow and derisive.

_...Shut up._

_Then stop running yourself into the ground trying to do everything at once and sleeping only when your mind completely shuts down_ , Benihime snapped. _You do yourself and the others no favors. Gathering strands inattentively and spinning poorly results in a tangle, not a tapestry-- nor even a proper thread. Carefully--_

_\--de-gum, brush the silk fibers from the cocoon and unravel, spin even thread, dye appropriately, respect the loom, weave neatly, be methodical. Yes, I know._

_Do you, now?_ Benihime said archly. _You do not act it in recent days._

It was easy to forget how much of a smartass she could be when she went long stretches without being talkative.

_Do not speak of me so crudely_ , Benihime sniffed. Changing the topic, she said, _Your guest will doubt your sanity soon._

Yep. Tomohisa was looking at him a little oddly for his long pause. What were they saying?

_He was speaking of the morning the Incubator made the mistake of invading his daughter's bedchambers while your cat was guarding her_ , Benihime drawled.

“I think I heard about the incident secondhand,” Kisuke said. “Could you refresh my memory?”

Tomohisa recounted his outsider view of what had happened when Yoruichi fought the Incubator. “A few hours after Madoka went to school, I went in to clean up the fur and blood from the fight. I didn't sense any... power from the stuff. But the fur started... kinda evaporating. Then no cleaners touched the blood. I got suspicious, so I tried charging the water with my power. The blood came out then. So I know it's a spirit of some kind. I just don't know _what_. And Madoka says she's seen it around since. It disturbs me.”

Kisuke stared. That was priceless intel about the little monster. His mind spun with possibilities.

Tatsuya squealed and wiggled onto Tomohisa's lap. Tomohisa bounced him on his knee but kept his eyes on Kisuke. “I noticed you have some kind of... protective thing over the property when I came in. Could I commission you to do something like that over my house?”

Kisuke was doing a lot of staring today. “Of course.”

“How much would it cost?”

“I don't charge for things like that,” Kisuke said, waving a hand dismissively. “The shop is for shiny things that are popular with people who think supernatural stuff is cool, with some minor protections built in. I do well enough from it. Critical things like wards to protect children with powers... no charge.”

“I insist,” Tomohisa argued. “Safety like this--” he gestured at the room to indicate the whole building-- “is invaluable and worth paying for.”

“Invaluable. Exactly. No charge.”

“I insist,” Tomohisa repeated stubbornly.

Kisuke sighed fondly. May as well make use of it. “You are aware of Miss Akemi, correct? ”

“Yes. My daughter's new friend. She's been to our house several times. Sweet girl, if very withdrawn. As powerful as Madoka has become recently, too.”

Now that he said that... Tomohisa was right. He had noticed that, _known_ that, but hadn't thought deeply on it. Kisuke picked apart implications, thought about things that had been written and said about Madoka, and came up with questions, questions, questions. “About when did Madoka's power escalate?”

“Hmmm.” Tomohisa looked toward the ceiling in thought. “Mid-March, I think. A few days before she met Miss Akemi.”

Kisuke's mind ground to a halt and restarted at a feverish pace. That timing likely aligned with Akemi's reset point. He was going to have to rake over this conversation with a fine-toothed comb when he looked at the surveillance later. He needed to run more scans of the girls. So much new information to pick apart, on top of what he already had! Both excellent and a logistical _nightmare_.

“Huh,” Kisuke said thoughtfully. “Anyway, are you also aware of Miss Tomoe?”

“Yes. I haven't met her, but my wife told me about her.”

“I don't know if you are aware, but Miss Akemi and Miss Tomoe are orphans. Mother hen them a bit. Maybe have them over for dinner sometimes. They need it. Promise to do that, and I will consider the wards more than paid for.”

“Barter, huh?” Tomohisa said with a smile. “Surely there must be something else...? I'm mother henning Miss Akemi anyway.”

Grinning widely, Kisuke made an expansive arm gesture and said, “Then you've already made a down payment, my friend.”

Tomohisa laughed. After a minute of comfortable quiet, he asked, “Will the wards keep that cat-thing out of my home?”

Kisuke sobered. “I designed them to be... pretty much overkill and so dense anything supernatural besides spiritually aware humans without ill will would at the least have _extreme_ trouble getting through, but there are no guarantees with that thing. I haven't been able to study one to know exactly what they are.”

With a small gasp, Tomohisa asked, “So you _do_ know the thing I'm talking about?”

Kisuke went quiet and stared pensively at his teacup as he considered his words and strategy carefully. Tomohisa waited him out until he slowly admitted, “I do. It's very elusive of adults. It is some kind of trickster entity that preys on young girls with spiritual power.”

The father's entire body tensed up. “Preys on them how?”

Again, Kisuke carefully mulled over his words. Akemi would probably be furious if she found out, but the potential.... “It offers them a contract. A deal with the devil, as it were. It offers to grant them a wish and does not tell them that they are purchasing it with their soul. It targets young girls who don't know to be suspicious of such a proposition.” Tomohisa's horror was palpable, so he looked up at the father with a sharp grin. “It offered a contract to your daughter. But between Miss Akemi's warnings and Madoka's knowledge of contracts through your wife's conversations about business deals, she turned it down. So has her friend, Miss Miki. Given advance warning, your daughter and her friend have been good at poking holes in the creature's sales pitches. They hate it.”

Tomohisa closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh of relief. After a moment, he opened his eyes in surprised realization. “Miss Akemi's warnings?”

“Unfortunately, it succeeded in tricking her some time ago.” Note to self: _really_ don't tell Akemi about this part of the conversation.

Benihime objected, shoved mental images of Akemi, Hitsugaya, Yoruichi, and Tessai giving him various looks of disapproval into his consciousness with a bonus image of Isshin and Ichigo looming murderously, then ominously declared, _We will have words about this, Kisuke._

Fantastic.

Still, he had to continue. Stoke sympathy. “She unwittingly sold her soul in a bid to save a friend's life. It also preyed upon Miss Tomoe when she lay dying in the car accident that killed her parents two years ago. Desperate situations where questioning a lifeline is all but impossible for adults, let alone children. Miss Tomoe only recently learned of the deception, so she is... mentally fragile right now.” Kisuke paused to take in Tomohisa's outraged expression. “My nephew found out about Miss Akemi's situation when a mutual friend who had also been tricked died. We've been working together on investigating the Incubator ever since in an attempt to break its hold on the souls it swindles from girls. We're making steady progress, but it is slowed by how careful we're being with letting it figure out exactly how much we know. We moved here specifically to up our game against it, so to speak.”

Tomohisa's stare was hard and angry. “If there's anything I can do, please let me know. I will do everything in my power to help.” He pulled back with a self-deprecating smile and continued, “I may not have a lot of power to work with, but still.”

“I will keep that in mind. Sometimes, someone like you can be a valuable asset that can go unnoticed by the suspicious.” Tilting his head in thought, Kisuke asked, “You've never seen the creature yourself?”

“No.”

“Neither have I, actually. I wasn't exaggerating when I said it avoids adults.” Kisuke stared at the ceiling pensively. “My nephew has only managed to encounter it a couple times when he's with the girls we try to save from contracts. I wonder if it actively avoids being seen by people with spiritual awareness...?” He called out down hall, hand to mouth. “Tehhhhh-ssaaaaai~! Can you bring me the composites we made of what the Incubator looks liiike?”

“Be right there, boss,” Tessai's voice came from a distance.

The two men sat quietly until Tessai appeared with a folder containing a sheaf of papers. Kisuke took it graciously, rifled through them, and lay three out on the table for Tomohisa to see. It had turned out that Akemi's sketches had been most accurate of those made by the three girls who had contributed. Hitsugaya and Yoruichi had offered only the slightest of refinements.

Tomohisa slid the drawings closer to him one by one and stared at them, apparently searing them into his memory as he absently brushed his son's grabby hands away from the papers. He grimly said, “It's very distinctive. I'll keep an eye out for it”

“If you do see it, please pretend that you don't. That you don't have enough power to be able to see it, I mean. It has been near enough to you to sense you're not completely powerless but your power does feel very subtle, so it should work.”

“Don't react to it?” Tomohisa said darkly as he looked up at Kisuke over the rims of his glasses with heavy-lidded eyes. “ _It targeted my daughter._ ”

“If you truly want revenge, not breaking cover so we can continue to investigate it would be more effective than approaching it in anger. Just report its movements.”

Tomohisa pursed his lips and sighed, looking down to the sketches again. “Right.”

A man of reason. Thank God.

After a pause, Kisuke ventured, “May I ask your address, Mr. Kaname? I'll look at satellite photos of your neighborhood to design the wards.”

Tomohisa drew a deep breath. “Of course. And my son's... bracelet?”

“Do you think he would leave a bracelet alone?” Kisuke asked, amused by the sight of Tatsuya with most of his hand in his mouth. Except for his pinkie finger, which was up his nose.

“He... would probably chew it, actually,” Tomohisa said with a small smile. “An anklet, maybe?”

“Sounds good. I'll make some for you and your wife, too. Less flashy than your daughter's.”

The father grinned. “Actually, Junko _wants_ one like Madoka's. Says it's very cute. She loves cute things. Wears a barrette with a little black bow on it to work, even.”

Kisuke laughed. “Well, then! I'll make her a pretty one!”

They parted on pleasant terms, Kisuke standing at the gate to wave at Tatsuya as he played peek-a-boo over his father's shoulder until they turned a distant corner. Kisuke's face immediately sobered. He whirled around on his heel and marched back into the shop, straight past Tessai, and down into a different lab. He inhaled sharply, exhaled slowly, considered priorities.

Protections for the Kaname household. Spiritual awareness history of the Kaname line. How the father's power factored into previous timelines-- had he been involved in Madoka's actions in a way Akemi was unaware of? What about the mother's knowledge? The strange development of Madoka's powers and their strengthening around the time of Akemi's reset point. Looking into Miki's family history for similar trends. Attempt for the other Mitakihara girls, but all of their families were dead so there would be nothing he could measure. Figuring out what the barrier over Asunaro was and deciding on a course of action regarding it. Studying over forty Soul Gems, four Grief Seeds, and the two imitation Grief Seeds, all of which could not be sent to the past. Figuring out how Soul Gems turned into Witches and why Witches spawned pocket dimensions was of particular interest, on top of what method might be used to turn a standard soul into a Soul Gem. Tinker with his gigai equipment to better experiment on the attachment and detachment of Soul Gem to body. Figure out why the hell a costume change was involved. Tracing the path of the Sōju through Japan and figuring out why they had appeared in this timeline but not others-- it seemed less important, but they and other interlopers needed to be headed off in future timelines. Find out if there was any archival mention of the Incubator in shinigami records. Look into the apparent historical disappearances of shinigami for correlation. Figure out what history the Incubators had with the Quincy-- well, at least Ishida had Ichigo's little group working on finding evidence to work from. Figure out which of the missing and dead girls from the stack of information from the last timeline were magical girls and which incidents were caused by Witches. Set Tessai on looking for cases that hadn't been in the media. Get into Asunaro and get a copy of that detective's file on decades of missing girls. Keep a watchful eye on Tomoe's likelihood to go on a misguided killing spree. And and and and and.

Most importantly: Repairing the damage to his relationship with Homura Akemi. Everything would fall apart without her. Her regression had infuriated the Kurosaki men, who split the blame for it between Sōju and Kisuke-- and weren't shy about saying so. Isshin's call in the wee hours of Sunday morning had been particularly scathing. The only good to come out of Akemi's setback was that it caused the entire Kurosaki family to rally around her even more fiercely. She needed that.

Akemi seemed to relax a touch when exposed to Tessai's quiet, mellow seriousness and had yet to bristle in response to him. Yoruichi had said she had decently thoughtful conversations with the girl while she prepared munitions. Hitsugaya seemed to have effortlessly slipped past her armor with some combination of seriousness, frankness, and commiseration about something he refused to speak of with Kisuke beyond a curt _we share certain similar circumstances_. So it _was_ possible to interact with her in a productive way that went beyond superficial and strictly as needed regarding plain information. Others did it.

_And then there's you_ , Benihime said sarcastically.

_And then there's me_ , he thought to his blade. _You have words, do you?_

_Indeed I do_ , she said evenly. _Your body requires rest. Let us adjourn to your bedchambers so that you may join me within._

_That's what_ she _said_ , Kisuke thought back on reflex. Benihime was not amused even though she usually enjoyed bawdy humor. As soon as he got his body horizontal in his bed, she yanked him into their Inner World and let him fall into a vat of water she was warming to boil silkworm cocoons in.

Kisuke dragged himself up over the wooden edge, gasping, and looked at her through dripping bangs. “I see I've displeased you, madam.”

“Quite,” the personification of his blade drawled in her smoky voice as she stood by a doorway framed by red silk curtains, arms crossed and face deadpan as she tapped a folded fan against one shoulder in annoyance. “Next time, it will be boiling.”

“Noted.” Kisuke grimaced and rolled over the rim of the vat, stood, and wrung out his clothes. He knew from experience that she wasn't kidding.

Benihime watched him dispassionately for a moment then turned away. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

Kisuke followed. His blade was one of the few entities that could make him feel like a chastened child. They wove through a maze of draperies, sewing machines, spinning devices, and looms of varied ages and cultural origins, each with its purpose. He recognized the path immediately and was not surprised when Benihime pointed at the drawloom she had taught him on when he was first trying to achieve shikai so very long ago. It was always her way of passive-aggressively implying she was dragging him back to basics because he was neglecting her teachings or advice.

“Sit down and weave,” Benihime snapped.

Nodding silently, he stepped within the frame and sat on the bench. First thing was to analyze what Benihime had laid out for him to weave. The warp was entirely composed of shimmering lavender and only wide enough to make an obi. Shuttles of various colors were set out before him to form the weft-- white, amber yellow, azure blue, burgundy, sparkly bubblegum pink, and more lavender. The weft already woven started with a stripe of pink. He looked around, then up at his blade. “Where is the pattern?”

“Make one up as you go.”

...Odd, but okay. After a minute of thought, he set out to weave a checkered pattern using five of the colors with a solid stripe of the pink between each row of squares to match the first pink stripe. He slipped into the familiar rhythm of counting, opening and closing sheds with the treadles, slinging shuttles through at intervals, and battening, the clacking of the parts of the loom a constant as he lost track of time.

“Stop.”

He complied. Benihime leaned over his shoulder and scrutinized the six centimeters of fabric, then leaned back with a disdainful sniff.

“It is wrong. Unravel it.”

“There's no pattern for it to be wrong.”

“It is not the design I am looking for. Therefor, it is wrong.”

“But--”

“Unravel it. And do not _dare_ waste the thread.”

So he painstakingly dismantled the cloth one pick at a time, reeling the thread back onto the shuttles in a mind-numbing exercise of tedium.

“Weave again.”

“What design do you want?”

“Something pleasant.”

“That's not very specific.”

“Weave!”

So he wove a set of simple stripes, using the burgundy every other stripe since she was fond of reds. She stopped him at six centimeters again, scowled, and pronounced it another failure. When he finished unraveling it, Benihime swept one voluminous crimson sleeve over the shuttles. More shuttles with yet more colors were present in its wake-- lemon yellow, candy apple red, orange, black, mulberry purple, powder blue, coffee brown, olive green.

“Again.”

Kisuke thought he saw where this was going. He set out to make another set of stripes.

Three centimeters in, Benihime swooped in while he had the lavender shuttle in his hand and snatched up the the coffee, powder blue, and olive, then deliberately smacked his hand with the olive shuttle to stop him mid-pick, wrapped it around the beater, and sent it back through the shed at an angle. She jabbed the other colors through the warp in different directions, tangling them in and out of the shed through multiple strands; somehow, a shuttle of pearl with a mauve sheen and a shuttle of variegated red-and-white thread came to be tossed in and dangled haphazardly with the others. Kisuke sat motionless and evaluated the mess.

“Keep weaving. Make it beautiful.”

He shuffled around to retrieve the discarded shuttles from the floor and pass them back up through the warp. His blade allowed him to do that, but Benihime viciously rapped his knuckles with her folded fan when he tried to backtrack the shuttles and undo the tangles to resume his pattern without flaws.

Oh, she had the war fan today. Kisuke was pretty sure she'd just cracked half a dozen small bones with its iron plates.

“ _Keep weaving._ ”

Kisuke grimly complied. The pattern was a mangled mess and his dominant hand ached as he went through the usual motions. It was impossible to make an even pick and the olive thread limited the movement of the beater so much that he was forced to stop at the five centimeter mark when the slack had been used up and essentially bound the beater in place.

“Why did you stop? Keep weaving.”

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

Kisuke sighed. “You interfered with my loom in the middle of my pattern instead of telling me I would need to change it.” He sat back, scrubbed his face with his hands, then winced and flexed his dominant hand.

“Frustrating, is it not?” Benihime asked coolly.

“Yes.”

“Even more frustrating that you were not allowed to correct the damage? That you were expected to complete the piece smoothly despite it?”

“Yes.”

Benihime ran one finger along the taut olive thread that trapped the beater. “Cutting this and leaving that color out of the cloth from that point would be the simplest way to salvage the rest, would it not?”

“Yes.” He met Benihime's eyes. “I understand.”

Benihime stood silent for a long while, staring at him flatly and tapping her war fan against her upper arm. Her disappointed frown was made all the more vivid by her crimson lips. He bore her stare patiently-- he deserved this.

“I _warned you_ that she has a weaver's mindset like your own and that interrupting her weaving without notice would anger her, did I not?”

“Yes.” Again: Chastened child.

“But you did not take my warning seriously because you so rarely encounter another weaver, she is young and inexperienced, and the exotic new threads she brought you enthralled you like a child with a new toy.”

Kisuke looked aside guiltily.

“You were cocky about your prowess and presumed she would bow to your expertise and vast experience. You assumed your own superiority and that it would automatically be recognized by one who has only ever known her own loom, her own patterns, her own thread, her own spinning wheel, is self-taught.”

Kisuke stared at his loom, eyes drawn to the lavender warp.

Benihime side-stepped to hover behind the loom and glare at him ominously. “I will repeat myself now that you have ears to hear me: Homura Akemi is _too like you_ for you treat her as you do most others you plan around. That girl is a warrior like your protégé before her, but she is _far_ more critical and less trusting than Ichigo Kurosaki. The boy you first took under your wing was willing to cooperate with your directives without questioning your identity and motives, but not so with this girl. Kurosaki thought he had a straightforward task set before him: Rescue a friend. He was oblivious to conspiracy and content to remain so if he could accomplish his goal. Everything else was unimportant unless it was a direct threat to his friends. Akemi has a similar mindset and target but she is not so naïve as Kurosaki was. She has endured too much to not be aware of the potential for conspiracy and betrayal. You simply cannot treat her the same as you treated Kurosaki. Your usual weave poorly suits her. Adjust accordingly or your cloth will be weak and useless, easily torn, completely unable to withstand the very literal test of time.”

The silence after her pronouncement was heavy as her eyes bored into his. Kisuke thought through her words, remembered something Yoruichi had said, and slowly asked, “You also think she is like me?”

Benihime rolled her eyes and said, “I will not repeat myself again.” She canted her head to one side and gave him a significant look from heavy-lidded eyes. “Homura Akemi may be a child more than two centuries younger than us but she has constructed a custom loom with _no_ guidance, meticulously wrapped her warp, woven a pattern of her own design, then unraveled her weft when her completed pattern is unsatisfactory and tried again with adjustments for previous mistakes. Dozens of times on the same piece-- enough to drive the best of weavers mad. Truly, she is a prodigy. That she has not snapped and burned her loom to cinders in frustration is a testament to how patient and determined a weaver she is-- how masterful she could become with formal instruction. Interfering with her loom without warning will only cause her to rebuff the attempt and try to attack your own in defense or revenge-- or could be the stressor that finally wears her warp so thin as to break. All of her weaving and unraveling and weaving and unraveling does not happen without consequences of wear and tear, after all,” she said as she lightly ran one hand along the lavender threads stretched before her. “Thread frays when subjected to enough friction.” The spirit selected one taut thread and rubbed her finger on it until it broke, the long end rebounding toward Kisuke's face with a twang. Benihime leaned forward, the loops of her elaborate hairstyle draping themselves over her shoulders and cascading down to the loom like skeins of black silk thread as she huskily asked, “Whyever would such a weaver entrust you with thread from her own spinning wheel-- or accept thread from yours-- if your behavior gives her the impression that you will bind her loom with it?”

Every word was true. “What do you suggest I do, then?”

Benihime straightened and looked at him like he was an idiot. “Instruct her, of course. Your cat already figured that one out.” She moved aside then slowly stalked around the loom toward him, free hand caressing the wooden beams as she passed. “Akemi is talented despite her errors and struggles with her rough loom. It is to be expected, being self-taught with simple patterns and homespun thread; with professional guidance and more experience, she could be a master. She is intelligent enough to realize this if you--” Benihime stopped near him and angrily beat her folded fan on a beam to emphasize each suddenly shouted word-- “ _do not provoke her unnecessarily!_ Alienate her, and she will never allow you near her loom again. If she welcomes your tutelage, you have a greater chance of subtly changing her weft with just a pick here and a pick there every few dozen times she opens her shed.”

“As Aizen did with everyone he encountered before his defection,” Kisuke said darkly.

“To a degree,” Benihime said with a shrug. “But your motive is to strengthen her cloth, not weaken it to ensure your own is always of the most exquisite quality by default.”

Kisuke looked up at her with a small smile. “Still resent that, do you?”

Benihime's red lips curled into a sneer. “If one must resort to sabotage of other looms to be lauded as the most skilled weaver, one is not as skilled as one would like to believe oneself. Instead, one is admitting that they cannot compete on even terms, stunting growth in so doing.” The blade spirit leaned in close to him and lowly threatened, “Don't you _dare_ do that to yourself and this child, Kisuke.”

He smiled weakly. “How could I do so with you as my conscience, milady?”

The woman scowled, grabbed his jinbei, and wrenched him first backward and then closer to her. “By _not listening to me_ ,” she hissed. “As you seem fond of doing these last few weeks.” Benihime leaned still closer, pressing her forehead and the tip of her nose against his. His entire field of vision was filled with her blood red eyes. Her lips brushed his as she plaintively whispered, “Do you plan to discard me as Aizen discarded Kyōka Suigetsu when he thought himself so superior he no longer needed to listen to her? No longer needed her at all? Love me and leave me when you get what you want from me?”

Revulsion exploded through Kisuke and made him ill. The accusation was a completely unexpected blow-- a low blow, really, and a manipulative one, but that was Benihime. That was him. When it suited their interests, they mercilessly leveraged weak spots and insecurities-- even their own.

“Never,” he croaked.

“Will you not merely listen to me but also take my counsel seriously?” she rasped softly as she pressed her cheek against his and breathed on his ear like a lover.

“Of course.”

Benihime released his clothing, straightened, and patted his cheek in condescension. “Then-list-en-to-me,” she enunciated slowly.

Kisuke smiled weakly. “What is your counsel, milady?”

The blade spirit looked at him speculatively for a moment before sitting beside him on the bench with a sighing of silk-on-silk as she arranged her ornate kimono around her, facing the opposite direction so they could see one another's faces.

“You need to be more personal and open with her, obviously. You are observant enough to see that she needs that from other people. That it works for other people. It applies to yourself as well. You must be not a distant provocateur but a direct mentor. Far more direct than you were with the Kurosaki boy.”

Kisuke hesitated and considered his words. “I'm... not sure I'm fit to.”

“Based upon what?” Benihime asked airily, very obviously already knowing the answer.

Kisuke sighed, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck. He hated to admit it, but he had to be honest. “Mayuri Kurotsuchi.”

Benihime tossed her hair haughtily with a sound of annoyance. “Attempting to reform that man was one of our greatest mistakes. We were optimistic to the point of naïveté. We should have recognized bad thread when we saw it and torn that weft out when we had the chance.” She reached up and pressed one crimson nail into his cheek. “But we were young, and we know better than to fashion asbestos yarn into clothing now, do we not?”

“Yes.”

The spirit drew her nail down his jaw and coyly asked, “Do you think Homura Akemi is raw asbestos?”

“No. Not at all.”

“I see.” Benihime tapped her finger against his lips as if to imply secrecy between them. “Do you fear you will restructure her raw silk into spun asbestos?” she asked in a whisper.

After a long silence, Kisuke breathed, “Yes.”

Benihime leaned back and looked at him with fond exasperation. “Darling, that girl is more likely to spin herself into the center of a spider's web _without_ your guidance than with it. You will do her more harm by _not_ acting.” When he glanced away thoughtfully, Benhime's hand darted after him and pulled him back toward her with a finger to the chin. “Weavers like us do have a propensity for going astray; for egotism, for thinking our ability to control events around us is both superior and the apex of morality, for seeing ourselves as Moirai or Norns or what have you. We do. But that largely happens when left to our own devices. When we go without anyone to critique our work in progress from someplace other than the bench. Some errors are more easily seen from beside or above the loom-- mirrors only go so far. When all you see is your own cloth before you, the weave can become mesmerizing. That was Aizen's problem. Tragically poetic, in a way; ensnared by the reflection of his weaving on the mirror beneath it, yet unable to see its flaws because he fell in love with the glimpse of himself he saw through the warp. A modern Narcissus.” Benihime sighed and mournfully said, “Such a shame. A waste of talent. He could have woven so much good in the world had he not spun himself a cocoon he could not emerge from. One no amount of boiling could de-gum-- fit only for burning.”

Kisuke had the sudden mental image of the butterfly-like monster Aizen had evolved into on his quest to godhood and laughed himself breathless until he neared passing out in his own Inner World. A sly smile danced across Benihime's lips as she watched him collect himself.

“You fear raising another weaver like Aizen because your guidance did not redeem Kurotsuchi.”

And there went the laughter. Her words were like a physical blow.

Benihime leveled a flat stare at him. “Kurotsuchi _started_ as asbestos and was not only content to remain asbestos, he _reveled_ in it. It was not our method that was flawed, but our choice of raw material.”

“Garbage in, garbage out,” Kisuke said ruefully. Applying the universal rule of coding to weaving amused him.

“Precisely.” Benihime inclined her head thoughtfully and said, “While I am glad that you take the potential impact of your patronage seriously, I think your worry is excessive.” She reached over his shoulders and loosely clasped her hands behind his neck. “Learning to weave alone is what twisted Aizen. That is why you must weave _with_ Akemi. Beside her, in addition to above her or across the room from her. And teach her to weave herself into others and others into her with strong bonds. Right now there is more danger from her continuing to weave by herself than in learning better weaving with you. Guiding her from a distance and keeping her at arm's length is how you will convince her that she is nothing more than a tool to you. A drudge in your textile mill. A means to an end. _That_ is what will drive her further into solitude and arrogant pride in her cloth.” Benihime leaned in close to him, chin dipped so she was looking up at him through her hair. “She is now Penelope. Do not let her become Arachne, Kisuke.”

Kisuke closed his eyes and breathed deeply, centering himself. “You're right, of course.”

“I am always right,” Benihime said crossly. “I never expected it would take so long for this fact to penetrate your thick skull, but here we are.”

A wide grin stretched across Kisuke's face. “Now, to figure out how to get closer to her....”

Benihime leaned back and looked unimpressed. “You know how. You are not stupid, Kisuke. You are an obstinate hermit crab who hates emerging from his shell any more than absolutely necessary. And even then, you favor pincers.”

Kisuke arched a brow and playfully said, “Are you calling me a crustacean, madam?”

“I am,” Benihime confirmed with a smirk before sobering again. “The others get personal with her, for one. They are also very forthcoming with her, obviously. If you volunteer information regularly, it will be less noticeable when you do strategically omit some.”

“Oh? Still omit some?” he teased. “I thought you said--”

Rolling her eyes, Benihime drawled, “Do not act as though there is no middle ground between complete openness and complete stonewalling, you fool. You play in that gray area all the time. You just need to refine your technique and degree of obfuscation for this application. Skewing heavily toward more transparency.” She let go of his shoulders and poked one finger into his chest. “This is why you will disclose today's meeting with Tomohisa Kaname when Akemi returns. The information is harmless in the scale of things considering what we have explained to her about spiritual awareness and could prompt her to examine her memories of past timelines in a new light. It could be very useful and she is intelligent enough to recognize the potential.”

“She will be furious that I explained part of the contract to him, though. Acted without her input again.”

“It is unavoidable. You merely have to phrase the revelation in a positive light and redirect her into seeking significance to the new information.”

“Merely,” Kisuke echoed drily.

“Merely,” Benihime said with a snobby inclination of her chin.

“I'll have to push that to the top of my To Do list.”

Benihime's eyes narrowed. “Speaking of--”

“Damn.”

“Haste. Makes. Waste,” Benihime said.

“I don't exactly have a lot of time to work with, milady.”

She dismissed his objection with a wave of one crimson sleeve. “And you are _wasting_ what little you have trying to weave five overlapping patterns at once. You are slowing yourself down and approaching a great deal of this situation inefficiently. You cannot continue to weave like this. Your cloth will fall apart.” Benihime jabbed her folded war fan into his sternum so hard it knocked the breath out of him and declared, “Unravel your flawed cloth. Dismantle the warp and adjust the heddles. Be more careful with your weft. Your shuttles have been unstable lately.”

“You do so hate when I hurry,” Kisuke said ruefully.

“A stitch in time saves nine,” she snapped. “Be deliberate. Methodical. You do not have the luxury of a century of idleness to design your cloth this time. You are forced to weave quickly to clothe the unclothed, but that is _no excuse_ for poor workmanship.”

“Ahhh, such a cruel taskmaster!” he teased.

“Such an impudent student,” the spirit of his blade retorted with faint amusement. “In all seriousness, though, you simply do not have the resources to weave this piece alone. Given time, you weave intricate beauty from a thousand heddles and a hundred shuttles. When you try to do so in haste, you stray dangerously close to errors in the weft that ruin the pattern.”

“What would you suggest, Princess?”

Benihime side-eyed him with disdain as she slowly said, “Make some use of the pretentious drawboy we had to leave our lovely Seireitei loom to, ob-vi-ous-ly.”

Kisuke laughed aloud. “Still resent that, too?”

“It was a _masterpiece_. That asbestos-stuffed drawboy is unworthy of it,” she sneered. “Take advantage of his jealous possession of our loom to partition our weaving, but ensure every pass of the shuttle stings his fingers.”

Kisuke grinned. Indulging Benihime's grudges could be so entertaining sometimes. Well, technically, Benihime's grudges were his own suppressed grudges, so he was indulging himself. But also.... “What? You want him to prick his finger on a spindle? I don't think anyone would kiss him to wake him up to actually be useful. Unless _you're_ volunteering to be the gallant Princess Charming, milady?”

“Begone with you, knave,” Benihime said with fond annoyance before she pushed him off the bench backwards and he woke in his bed.

He stared at the ceiling, breathing deeply and planning. After awhile, he pried himself out of bed and headed for a lab. He had a lot of arrangements to make.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As far as I could tell / remember from the show, Kyubey is shown in the same room with Junko but not with Tomohisa. I decided to make something of it. If I'm wrong... ARTISTIC LICENSE LOL.
> 
> But like... watch the PMMM episode 11 scenes of Madoka coming home from Sayaka's funeral and Madoka and Junko at the shelter, looking at it as if Junko *knew* her daughter was involved in spiritual bullshit no one else had a hope of countering and which had probably gotten her friend killed. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I am aware that my Benihime is similar to Senjōmaru Shutara. It annoys me because it was unintentional-- Benihime's personality has been my personal headcanon for a lonnng time and the sewing/weaving aspect was only added once Urahara's bankai was shown. We could go with the similarity being a testament to Urahara being on par with a Royal Guard, I suppose. Especially since Urahara is stated to have created his healing hot spring based on analysis of Kirinji's originals and the Quincy considered him one of the... Special War Powers or whatever that awkward phrase was.


	64. DREIUNDSECHZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for the patience. Life happened (in a good way) and the characters fought my plans for them. (A pitfall of getting to the point where “the characters practically write themselves.”) Then I kept having to fix/remove things in this chapter as I went forward. I have two and a half more chapters written but expect the next release to take awhile again. Trying to avoid tangling my plot threads *ugly sobs*  
> -  
> I'm citing artistic license on Uhrmann/Bartels. As of this posting, there is no official imagery for Uhrmann's Grief Seed, Witch Kiss/labyrinth door, or labyrinth. The translation of the Image Note for Uhrmann/Bartels didn't mention the labyrinth, so I'm making inferences. Also, THANK YOU ANON TRANSLATOR FROM AO3!

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**DREIUNDSECHZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Going back to school was strange for Mami. It felt like she had just missed one day even though she knew she had missed three, plus the usual Sunday. Her sense of what day it was had been messed up. It was strange to do her morning routine anywhere but her apartment, strange to have eaten a breakfast cooked by someone else at a table with other people, strange to take the train to school, strange to go to school _with_ someone instead of alone. She wasn't used to meeting up with others outside the school yet, either. The overall effect was dreamlike.

Kisa and Hanako noticed that she entered the classroom beside Hitsugaya and looked positively smug. Mami felt her face warm and averted her eyes. At least they waited until the first break period to pounce on her. She rattled off the excuse about an emergency Mr. Urahara had helped her work out and did her best to argue that she had only made friends with Hitsugaya because of mutual acquaintance with Homura Akemi in the year beneath them, but they looked skeptical and kept glancing his way. For his part, Hitsugaya was sitting at his desk and mostly ignoring the guys trying to draw him into their conversation in favor of doing something on his phone, his face shifting between bored and irritated as he occasionally gave them one- or two-word answers.

They sat on the roof with the underclassmen at lunch again. It was oddly awkward without Homura, even though the absent girl had listened to them more than she spoke the one time they did it before-- before the incident. Conversation was light, the most serious topic being one of the underclassmen's classmates who was still in the hospital after a serious accident. Sayaka and Hitomi seemed equally happy about his recent turn for the better.

“I mean, I wish it would heal _faster_ ,” Sayaka said to Hitomi as she stabbed at her bento, “but he hasn't had another setback since they slowed down on that breakthrough treatment and he's even gotten a bit more feeling back in his fingertips so it's hard to really complain, too.”

Mami made a sympathetic sound but kept her mouth shut. The word _wish_ put her off now. It was a good thing the boy had begun to improve on his own; otherwise, that could have been a _real_ wish and--

Nausea made her pause in the middle of the motion of putting food in her mouth. She forced herself to complete the action, but it felt like she was chewing sawdust.

The rest of the day went by in a blur until Mami found herself at what seemed to be the underclassmen's usual sidewalk café. Sayaka mentioned they had started going there because Homura's cat often waited for her to get out of school, so her friends had decided to do their after-school relaxing or homework outside so they could pet her. Hitomi drifted away first, causing Mami to wonder anew whether she would have been as busy with extracurricular activities had her wealthy parents lived. Mami and Hitsugaya walked Madoka and Sayaka home before turning north. When they got off the train and approached the shop, Mami fidgeted uncertainly.

“Ah, Mr. Hitsugaya--”

The boy sighed. “Just Hitsugaya is fine.”

“O-okay.” Mami picked at the twisted strap of her school bag. “I was wondering... Do you think we could just drop off our things and go on patrol for Witches?”

He turned his head to her with an eyebrow raised and said, “I don't mind, but may I ask why?”

“It's just... I'm... restless, I suppose.”

Hitsugaya looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and asked, “Want to keep yourself busy?”

Mami relaxed with relief. “Exactly.”

“Sure, then.”

They were quiet until they reached the shop. Mr. Tsukabishi told them Mr. Urahara was in one of his labs and to not disturb him unless it was absolutely necessary. Hitsugaya acted like this was a normal thing, so Mami didn't say anything until they dropped their school things in the living area.

Hitsugaya turned to her and tucked his hands in his pockets. “You have a preference for where to go?”

“My usual patrol rounds, I suppose.”

The boy nodded once. “Lead on, then.”

In her mental map, Mami knew she usually passed a couple city blocks away from the shop when she was halfway through rounds that had her apartment as a start point, so she adjusted the pattern for having the shop as a start point. The two took to the rooftops, Hitsugaya seeming to easily recognize the search pattern she used. Mami wondered if Homura used a similar pattern.

“Out of curiosity, why don't you go farther east?” Hitsugaya asked her as they turned south at the Kazamino city limits.

“That's another girl's territory,” Mami said bitterly, thinking of her former apprentice.

“Ah. And farther north?”

“That's Pleiades Saints' territory,” Mami answered more easily.

“Pleiades Saints?”

“A team of seven magical girls,” Mami explained. “Well, six now. I saw in the news that Michiru died a few months ago. I think she was attacked in her home by either a Witch or a rival.” She had a sudden idea. “I wonder if Sōju got her?”

“What makes you think that?” Hitsugaya asked.

“The news showed that her house was damaged as though from an explosion, but there was no burn damage. It looked like what I've seen caused by magic before.”

After a minute of thought, Hitsugaya said, “Well, ambushing someone in their home _does_ sound like something Sōju would do.”

Mami scowled. She was generally diplomatic with other magical girls, but she would gladly fight and kill that monster. It was a disconcerting feeling she hadn't thought herself capable of. She was glad she could only really remember white and purple frills and brown hair-- it was hard to obsess over the girl when she couldn't put a face to the name.

“Anyway,” Hitsugaya called out, “so you not going farther north has nothing to do with the barrier over Asunaro?”

Mami stopped on the roof of an apartment building and waited for him to stop near her. “What barrier?”

Hitsugaya frowned and looked north. “It's so subtle you can't really find it unless you're looking for it,” he explained. “We discovered it by accident when Akemi crossed into it and it made her forget the Incubator while she was inside.”

“That's... disturbing,” Mami said slowly.

“That's why my uncle chose to have his shop so far north when we moved here. He's studying that barrier.”

“Oh.” Mami crossed her arms and frowned in thought. “Speaking of the shop, how does that... deep part work?”

“You mean how is it bigger on the inside than would seem possible from the outside?”

“Yes.”

Hitsugaya rocked his head back and forth in a gesture of uncertainty. “I'm not exactly an expert in that area, but it's a kind of... combining magic and physics to make a pocket dimension that my uncle can control. It's an extremely complicated thing. But as eccentric and obnoxious as he can be, the man _is_ an innovative genius.”

“I see.”

They continued their patrol, zigzagging down the city limits until they reached the edge of Shinchi. Mami was about to lead them west when her Soul Gem glowed faintly. Both stopped on a rooftop and were quiet as Mami swayed her hand around like a compass needle. When they had a direction to go, they did so until the Soul Gem's yellow glow was brighter; when the glow stayed constant across a few blocks, Mami pointed down to the street: time to be more meticulous. Hitsugaya nodded and descended into an alley beside her.

It took another twenty minutes of dowsing to find the labyrinth by a pet shop's rickety gutter downspout. Mami and Hitsugaya stared at the sigil and tried to figure out what it was so they could have at least some clue what they might find inside.

Hitsugaya tilted his head and squinted. “I think I see an umbrella with a little bow on top and a split handle, but I have no idea what everything else is.”

“I see the umbrella, too,” Mami murmured. “Maybe the rest is... pink clouds with pink rain bending up to rain under the umbrella?”

The boy straightened and frowned. “I guess that wouldn't be the weirdest thing a Witch would have.”

Mami laughed as she triggered her transformation. She conjured a rifle and smiled at him. “Shall we?”

Hitsugaya held his right hand out to his side. The flicker of pale blue light Mami had seen him use at the shop appeared. He wrapped his hand around it, then an ice flower blossomed at one end and a beam of magic shot out and turned into a sword made of ice. While he was making a few warm-up swings, ice arced around his neck like loose armor. He met her eyes and seriously said. “Ready when you are.”

Mami led him into the labyrinth with a sharp nod. They immediately stood back to back and took in their surroundings. The first thing they noticed was that it was pouring rain.

“Well, I guess you were right,” Hitsugaya muttered.

“Half-right. It's not pink,” Mami said with a smile.

They were standing in the middle of a cobblestone street with picturesque old European storefronts and cafés lining the sidewalks. At the far end of the street to Mami's left, the distant Eiffel Tower was just visible through the mist; to Mami's right, the street led to... another Eiffel Tower. Okay. Both had giant multicolored bows tied to their pinnacles, the loose ends of the ribbons waving like flags. The streets were lined with narrow swirls of brass with gaps in their centers. Before they could really consider whether or not that was something to worry about, the ground and buildings began to make a series of mechanical clunking sounds. Doors popped open down the entire length of the street like the old automaton clocks Mami had seen in antique shops. Every door spewed automatons at even intervals, each mechanically raising and opening an um **b** rella as they exited. Each doll looked like it h **a** d been artlessly sculpted f **r** om clay and painted with eye-searingly clashing brigh **t** colors. They were faceless and their sculpted and paint **e** d “clothes” were skin-tight for the masculine figures and futuristic space gir **l** hoop skirt dresses for the feminine figures; all had some kind of boot **s**. All carried umbrellas-- cute translucent ones Mami saw offered at convenience stores for cheap on rainy days for the feminine figures and impractically tiny fashion accessories for the masculine figures. While none of them had the support poles that usually moved such automatons, they all glided along the brass tracks on the street. They flowed into an intricate but repetitive pattern around Mami and Hitsugaya, revolving in place as they moved along. They didn't move otherwise and did not attack.

“I don't sense a Witch,” Mami announced.

“Just Familiars, huh? What a pain.”

Mami's lips twitched upward as she took aim with her rifle. “Let's see what happens.” She shot one of the automatons. The others moved through it as it fell apart and its clay melted in the rain. No reaction. “Huh. This should be simple.”

“You never know,” Hitsugaya said quietly. “Let's stay where we are. Watch each other's backs and let them come to us on the tracks.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They methodically attacked the clay figures as they approached in an assembly line to their destruction. It was like a shooting gallery for Mami-- she repeatedly conjured a row of guns spaced just so and waited for the next batch of Familiars to line up with them before shooting. Hitsugaya slashed through half a dozen at a time, his sword easily cleaving through clay like a scythe reaping grain. It took probably thirty minutes to whittle the Familiars down while holding their ground, but the time was worth the reduced risk. Eventually, there were only a handful left at the far ends of the street. Hitsugaya murmured to Mami and she carefully sniped the remaining Familiars from afar while the boy guarded her back. Soon, the labyrinth wobbled and faded from existence, leaving them by the pet shop's downspout once more.

Mami released her transformation and watched Hitsugaya drop his sword and let it evaporate before it hit the ground. The neck guard dissolved as he scrutinized the downspout and stepped up to it. Lightly running his fingers down it then looking up toward the roof, he frowned and said, “They really do seem to always haunt places relevant to their... themes.”

Oh. Rain gutter. Rainy labyrinth. “Ah, yes. Sometimes the tie can seem... abstract. But it's often the case.”

Hitsugaya hummed in thought and stepped back. “Do you want to complete the patrol or go straight back to the shop?”

Mami bit her lip. “Let's finish the patrol. I-if that's all right with you. If a Familiar is running around, there may be a Witch nearby. I don't want anyone to get attacked.”

The boy nodded and said, “Where next?”

They completed Mami's usual circuit without further incident just in time for a late dinner at the shop. Or maybe Mr. Tsukabishi had specifically timed it for their return. Despite everything that had fallen apart around her lately, it was one of the most relaxed patrols she had been on since the days when Kyōko had been her cheerful apprentice.

_I'm not alone anymore_ , she thought as Mr. Tsukabishi dragged a tired Mr. Urahara to the table and the four of them had a wonderfully mundane dinner.

§ x § x §

Late that night, Kisuke sought Hitsugaya, told him to leave the gigai and follow him, shoved a couple suitcases at the disgruntled captain, and slung a big pack of supplies on his own back. They left Tessai to mind the shop while Tomoe slept and set out for Soul Society.

“You could have told me you arranged a meeting,” Hitsugaya snapped at him in the Precipice World.

“Not with Miss Tomoe constantly in earshot,” Kisuke answered distractedly, mentally going over plans for probably the hundred-and-sixtieth time.

Hitsugaya grumbled but didn't argue further.

The captains and lieutenants of the Thirteen Divisions were already assembled in the First Division meeting hall when they arrived. They were also displeased by the late hour. Hitsugaya rid himself of his suitcases as though they were hot coals and hurried to his spot. Kisuke took a deep breath, pondered the threads the room gave him to work with and the thread he had brought with him, and set his loom.

His warp was the collected shinigami; his weft was a briefing about the base magical girl situation barring all mention of anything having to do with time manipulation or knowledge of the future, but with heavy stress on the disturbing similarities observed between the Incubator's methods and Aizen's early experiments in which he preyed upon souls in the Rukon to combine into an imperfect Hōgyoku. He lay each thread out carefully, his words designed to cause specific reactions in those present-- piquing interest in some, boring others, and sowing empathy or moral outrage among those who could be affected by such an emotion. The only thing that didn't go quite as expected was the boredom he desired of Kenpachi Zaraki not being shared by his tiny lieutenant, who had a notoriously short attention span for anything not involving observing violence, making mischief, or eating sugar. Then again, she was a powerful young girl and he was talking about other powerful young girls being preyed upon. Sympathy?

Yachiru had climbed from her usual perch peeking over Zaraki's shoulder while clinging to his back to a fully visible crouch on his shoulder, leaning into his head and digging her fingers into his scalp while watching Kisuke with an uncertain scowl that reminded him of a territorial cat.

“Hey, Kissy-kissy,” she called out when he paused.

Kisuke looked directly at the apparent six-year-old. Her dark pink eyes looked redder than he remembered. “Yes, Lieutenant Kusajishi?”

“Do Incatbunnies bleed?”

“Yes,” Kisuke answered slowly. “Yoruichi says it tastes somewhere between rabbit and cat, with a tingle.”

The little girl licked her lips and yanked on her captain's shaggy hair. “Kenny! Let's kill 'em!”

The big man barely reacted to his hair nearly being torn out by the roots. “Tch. Boring small fry. Even the Witch things sound boring if little living girls can take 'em.”

Yachiru's cheeks puffed out as she pouted. “But _Kenny_ , it _tricks_ 'em into fighting!”

“So? You fight fine.”

The pink-haired girl gave a quiet screech and clawed his head. “But little living girls aren't like me! Their feelings are squishy and killing makes 'em sad! They need to grow up more before they like killing things! The Incatbunnies don't let 'em grow up to kill better! No fair!” When Zaraki just rolled his eyes and looked away, she hauled off and punched his cheekbone with one little fist. The man's neck audibly popped as his head whipped sideways.

Everyone stared. What the everloving several levels of hell.

“But _Kenny!_ If the Incatbunnies eat up all the best fighter girls before they grow up and come here, we can't recruit 'em for Eleventh! We don't have enough girls!”

Zaraki actually looked mildly interested. “...True.”

Kisuke's mind broke. “Wait. Say that again.”

The pink terror blinked innocently at him, mollified now that her captain was under her sway. “We can't recruit 'em for Eleventh?”

“The other part.”

“The Incatbunnies eat up all the best fighter girls before they grow up and come here and we don't have enough girls?”

Kisuke kept staring at her as his mind rebooted.

_From the mouths of babes_ , Benihime drawled in his head, sounding like she was shaking her own.

Some of the others present looked like they were putting pieces together. Kisuke turned to the contingent from Eighth Division and slowly asked, “Captain Kyōraku, Eighth still handles the registers for Shin'ō Academy and the Thirteen Divisions, right?”

“Yes,” Kyōraku replied lowly. “From the entire nine hundred and seventy-two years we've bothered keeping such records.” He dipped his head and peered up from under the brim of his wide straw hat with sharp eyes. “I'm guessing my division is going to be figuring out how many female recruits we've been getting over the years.”

“Compile data on male and female academy recruits overall and also specifically the number of those from the Rukon and those born in Seireitei. Twelfth can crunch the numbers. If there's a downward trend in proportion of female recruits from the Rukon with no corresponding drop in those born in Seireitei....” An entire new angle of inquiry spread before Kisuke. On top of the other hundred balls he was juggling.

Kisuke suddenly, _intensely_ sympathized with Homura Akemi.

Captain Unohana inclined her chin in a thoughtful gesture and coolly observed, “I have long thought there should be more female shinigami than we have. And the disparity _has_ become gradually more noticeable over time.” That was significant coming from a woman who had been one of the founding members of the Thirteen Divisions.

Shinji raised his eyebrows and said, “You think this critter's been poachin' our talent before it can get to us?” His eyes darted from face to face. “If it is, ain't that _sabotaging us?_ ”

“Intentionally or unintentionally? Or as an added bonus to whatever its goals are?” Hitsugaya wondered suspiciously.

Kisuke met the Captain-Commander's calculating eyes and deeply wished to jump to the classified meeting that would happen after the current meeting.

“Kisuke Urahara,” Yamamoto rumbled, “please continue. Display your artifacts and explain your suggested course of action.”

So Kisuke picked up one of the suitcases, opened it, and turned it around to show everyone the contents. Ten Soul Gems rested in foam padding, gold and jewels sparkling in the low light. “Each of these is the condensed soul of a spiritually aware girl. Hitsugaya and Akemi confiscated forty-three from the magical girl serial killer. I have brought twenty of them for Captain Kurotsuchi to study.” He set the open case on the small table that had been provided to him and removed a Soul Gem that looked like a shimmering emerald, then chose callously provocative words. “Please pass her around to examine her.” Then he deliberately stepped to his right and gave the Soul Gem to Captain Ukitake first so it would have to be passed to everyone else in the parallel lines of officers before it reached Kurotsuchi-- both to frustrate his former subordinate and because he knew the man probably wouldn't relinquish the Soul Gem once he had it in his hands.

Kisuke rattled off his observations of Soul Gem mechanics while watching the officers' faces as the Soul Gem made the rounds. Ukitake was predictably appalled and looked at the egg with pity. Rukia Kuchiki took it gingerly and held it toward Eleventh. Zaraki didn't care enough to take it, but Yachiru did. The little girl scowled at it for a moment before quickly shoving it toward Kensei, then scrubbing her hands on Zaraki's haori as though she had touched something distasteful. Kensei glanced at it with a grim face and passed it to Mashiro, who held it by top and bottom between thumb and forefinger, lifted it up to the light, and sadly said, “she's so pretty,” before carefully handing it to her co-lieutenant Hisagi. The young man glanced at it with a deeply disturbed expression then passed it to Komamura, who took it in one large paw and looked at it carefully. The big dog-man's face was unreadable but his ears turned flat against his head before he passed it to Iba, who frowned and passed it to Shinji. The de facto leader of the Visored also held it up to the light and turned it this way and that with a grim face. “Poor kid,” he muttered as he passed it to Hinamori. The brunette looked like she might cry angry tears as she ran a thumb over the circular medallion near its base. She passed it to Rose, who looked at it with cold detachment before passing it to Kira. The young man looked nervous about touching it and immediately passed it to Sasakibe, who inspected it closely with an inscrutable face and walked it over to Yamamoto. The old man cradled it in his palm and stared hard at it before returning it to Sasakibe with a scowl. His lieutenant walked it over to the second line of officers. Soi Fon turned it to assess every angle with a hard face and carelessly shoved it at Omaeda, who looked bored and passed it to Unohana. Her heavy-lidded gaze as she examined it was ominous.

Unohana looked up and met Kisuke's eyes. “This child's reiatsu is quite distinctive. Budding plants and spring-like rejuvenation. A healer?”

“I have no way of knowing right now, but I thought as much,” Kisuke answered.

The healer nodded once and politely passed it to Isane Kotetsu. The tall silver-hired woman looked like she might cry as she passed it to Byakuya Kuchiki. His face was aloof as always as he inspected it and passed it to Renji Abarai. The redhead looked outraged and his hand shook. He looked up at Kisuke and gruffly asked, “That _thing_ did this to Ichigo's sisters' souls?”

“Yes.”

Renji clenched his jaw and visibly bit back words. He jerkily passed it to Kyōraku, who took it reverently and examined it with a melancholy expression. Nanao Ise took it from him and only touched it with the tips of her fingers, lips pursed as she memorized it and passed it to Hitsugaya, who had already seen it and immediately passed it to Matsumoto. The normally cheerful woman looked heartbroken and protective. She hesitantly held it out to Kurotsuchi, who snatched it from her fingers without bothering to hide his impatience.

“Twenty, you said?” he asked in a clipped tone.

“Yes,” Kisuke replied.

The other scientist began muttering to himself.

“I also brought two Grief Seeds and an unknown object that appears to be an imitation or derivative of a Grief Seed.” Kisuke closed the current suitcase and picked up a smaller one. He opened it and removed said objects, then gave them to Ukitake to start the process over again. Yachiru eyed them suspiciously and refused to touch them. Zaraki didn't care, so Mashiro darted around him to take the items from Rukia.

No sooner had Mashiro taken them than she hissed, threw the objects at the floor, and jumped back.

“The hell was that for?!” Renji shouted. “Those are kids' souls!”

“Not the squiggly one!” the usually-bubbly woman said with disgust. “It feels like-- like-- _that night_.”

The Visored in the room tensed. Kensei cautiously approached the squiggly pseudo Grief Seed, squatted near it, and held a hand out. He stopped a centimeter away from it, lips curling into a sneer. “She's right.” Looking up at his colleagues, he growled, “This damn thing feels like whatever the hell Aizen infected us with. Not the same, but similar enough that it's unmistakable.”

Kisuke looked at him with narrowed eyes. “We never did figure out precisely what he used to initiate the transformation,” he mused. “And it _did_ have an effect similar to Hollowfication on the Miki girl....”

“ _Now_ you tell us,” Shinji droned. “Thanks for the warning, Kisuke.”

“My apologies,” Kisuke said with a bow of his head. “While I did not witness the effects on the living girl myself, Captain Hitsugaya did.”

Everyone turned to Hitsugaya, who was frowning severely while looking toward the silver spindles. “I didn't see the actual transformation-- just its end result. I'm not sure if it transformed her physical body or encased it or what.”

“Labyrinths do tend to distort reality,” Kisuke interrupted as thoughts occurred to him. “Miss Miki mentioned that the Familiars stretched her like taffy, which should be physically impossible. I wonder if the doors to labyrinths are some kind of reishi henkan-ki...? But... stranger.” Yet another point of investigation.

“What was this transformation?” Unohana asked.

Hitsugaya shifted uncomfortably. “It was... like a Witch, but not nearly as strong.” He looked at Kisuke, who interpreted it as not wanting to reveal Akemi's observation of it having been visually halfway to Miki's actual Witch form. That was for the private briefing later that would include the time travel. “But also... it felt like the energy that an earthbound soul generates when its chain is consumed and it turns Hollow. Not the same, but--” he glanced at Kensei and echoed his words-- “similar enough that it was unmistakable.”

“What did it look like?” asked Hinamori.

“Like... a mermaid. About the same size as Miki, except for the extended tail. Blue scales, webbed fingers with claws, gills on her ribs, tattered pink and blue ribbons for hair and... kind of like a cape and skirt, I guess, with a metallic knight's helm over the top half of her face like... a... Hollow... mask,” he finished slowly with another look at Kisuke.

Kisuke always had mixed feelings about brainstorm sessions that bore fruit. So interesting, but so much more to look into.

Kensei carefully picked up the Grief Seed and its warped twin by the little silver ornaments on their crowns, holding them away from his body like they might explode. Once he had passed them to Komamura, he looked at Kisuke murderously. “This fucker's Hollowfying little girls?”

“Apparently,” Kisuke answered mildly. Exactly the reaction he wanted from the Visored in Seireitei. “My working theory is that becoming a Witch is a form of Hollowfication.”

The items reached Rose, who stared at them coldly. “Have you told the other Visored in Karakura?”

“No. Not in detail. I'm not sure how Hiyori will handle it. I heard she nearly came to blows with Karin Kurosaki and Homura Akemi upon meeting.”

“Hiyori started it, didn't she?” Shinji asked morbidly.

“Yes. Lisa said the tongue-lashing Ichigo gave her afterward was glorious.”

Rose's eyes slid to look at Kisuke. “Telling her may get Hiyori to be more cooperative.”

“Or get her to fly off the handle, dependin' on her mood,” Shinji drawled. “We all kinda have a _thing_ about assholes Hollowfying other people's souls, but Hiyori also has shit impulse control.”

Rose hummed in unhappy acknowledgment and passed the items on.

Yamamoto cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. “Now, Kisuke Urahara. Your advice for our response, if you would.”

Kisuke was vaguely amused that Yamamoto always avoided addressing him with any kind of title. “I would recommend each division look into its logs of shinigami that went missing in the World of the Living for unsolved cases where no Hollow was discovered on follow-up, for starters.”

“Our divisions should all have the basis for such reports from our investigations to retrospectively try to figure out which disappearances had been Aizen's doing, like Captain Shiba,” Hitsugaya said. “As I recall, most were inconclusive. Perhaps doubly so, now. But we can assign officers to dig farther back.”

Yamamoto nodded. “You all have these reports to start from?”

Everyone murmured or nodded agreement except Zaraki.

“Captain Zaraki?” Yamamoto said sternly.

“We got it!” Yachiru chirped. “Pinball-head did it!”

Kisuke didn't know why Zaraki didn't just drag Third Seat Ikkaku Madarame with him to meetings. He handled much of the nuts and bolts of running Eleventh and would probably actually give a damn about at least some of the things discussed. Maybe.

“Yes. Well.” Kisuke cleared his throat. “If any of your divisions kept records of subordinates who returned and reported something that sounded like extreme hallucinations that may actually have been labyrinths, that would also be good to know.”

“Fourth would have those records collected in one place,” Unohana said. “No need for the others to look.”

Kisuke nodded sharply. “Captain Ukitake, I would appreciate it if your division could compile everything you have on the greater Mitakihara area. Patrol history, incident reports, everything. Even if it looks innocent or unremarkable. As far back as you have it.” Captain Ukitake gave him a businesslike nod. Kisuke turned to the contingent from Sixth Division. “Captain Kuchiki, I would very much appreciate if you could request that the Kuchiki archivists research certain historical topics. I can give you a list, if you should accept.” Byakuya inclined his chin in assent. Kisuke let an obnoxious grin overtake his features and turned to Twelfth. “Then, Ma-yu-riiiiin~”

“Don't tell me what to do, you buffoon,” Kurotsuchi sneered as he shoved the Soul Gem at his lieutenant in favor of looking at the Grief Seed and its imitation.

“Why, I would never even _think_ of it,” Kisuke cooed from behind the fan he brought out with sleight of hand. “I just wanted to give you several dossiers of information for your little darlings to play with.” He mourned that he couldn't bring himself to include data acquired from Twelfth's databases and disclosures in the last timeline to rile the man up by giving the impression he'd been hacked unnoticed. Kurotsuchi would throw himself into overhauling the security measures on his systems before studying the Soul Gems. It would be fun if they weren't so pressed for time.

_Next time around, perhaps_ , Benihime muttered sulkily. She loved to see Mayuri squirm but practicality came first. _Save it for if you ever need to distract him from investigating Akemi. Especially since you will be acquiring even more disparate information this time. You can falsify an extensive system breach and make him too apoplectic to care about anything else._ She disdainfully sneered, _Selfish boor._

_Good idea_ , Kisuke thought to her.

The meeting soon wrapped up, everyone dispersing quickly as they headed to their beds-- or labs, in Kurotsuchi's case. Kisuke was satisfied with his cloth for the moment. He and Hitsugaya adjourned to Yamamoto's office with Ukitake to have a private briefing involving everything that had been glossed over to conceal the time travel, then returned to the shop. Hitsugaya went to bed, but Kisuke retreated to his own labs. He had work to do on the Asunaro surveillance drones.

§ x § x §

One of the Incubator's Asunaro terminals perched on a streetlight and observed the Pleiades Saints fighting a pseudo-Witch while contemplating the overarching situation. It was tempted to suspect these girls of collusion with Homura Akemi-- _especially_ Umika Misaki-- but that seemed extremely unlikely. The Pleiades Saints were uncommonly inventive with their magic, yes, but the barrier they had cast over their city would make it nearly impossible for them to be meaningfully involved with anyone in Mitakihara.

The Incubator did wonder what Misaki and Kanna could accomplish if they allied with the residents of the magic shop, but that was unlikely to happen. The situation in Asunaro was devolving rapidly; the Pleiades Saints might no longer exist soon. Six were starting to split into factions regarding the pet project that replaced their seventh; two had decided to prioritize the current iteration of their project even if it meant their original goal would be sacrificed, one was desperate for the original to be recreated, one resented that obsession, one was sliding into insanity unnoticed, and one was actually a disguised infiltrator who brought to mind the human expression “wolf in sheep's clothing.” The project herself was a wildcard. The Pleiades Saints were a self-contained rolling disaster the Incubator could only watch because the magical girls had also targeted _themselves_ in the erasure of the Incubator from the memories and perception of all within the barrier's borders.

It was a regrettable situation. The Incubators could only accomplish anything in Asunaro if the barrier was broken. They had studied it for months and found it so sturdily woven from the five girls' magic supporting Misaki's base spell that they postulated it could withstand losing more than half the anchors as long as Misaki was alive. It could possibly stand if Misaki was eliminated but all five of the other girls remained alive and stable; fortunately, that was no longer possible. The Incubators did not bother trying to dismantle the barrier because it would be a pointless expenditure of energy. It would collapse whenever Misaki finally succumbed to despair. Even though the Incubator could not form new contracts within it, the barrier worked to their advantage by limiting the Pleiades Saints' Soul Gem collecting.

Incubator terminals could wander freely through most of Asunaro, but the one place they most wanted access to had been warded against them before the magical girls had cast the larger barrier. They knew the Pleiades Saints kept their collection of dormant magical girls underneath Mirai Wakaba's museum, but they could not access even just the building. They _deeply wanted_ to free those magical girls from the suspended animation the Pleiades Saints had put them into to prevent them from turning into Witches while the team looked for a nonexistent cure. The Incubator's investment of energy lay inert instead of accumulating profit, which was bothersome. The only way they could get in was if Misaki or two other Pleiades Saints died or turned....

...Or if the barriers were subverted in some other way. Perhaps by the infiltrator, though her obsessions made her unreliable. Perhaps by the residents of the nearby magic shop who had so much expertise in warding and seemed to be allied with Homura Akemi in human moral outrage. Those humans could enter Asunaro _and_ interact with everyone within, while the Incubator could not. They would not be able to see the Incubator terminals following them. They might be sanctimonious enough to track down the Freezer and release the magical girls within-- those wards would not specifically target the humans as they did the Incubators. Even though that raised the possibility of recruiting an entire force of magical girls to their cause, the sheer demand for Grief Seeds would eventually be their downfall as it had been for every group, team, guild, and alliance of magical girls throughout history.

Whichever pillar crumbled first, all the Incubator needed was patience. And patience was practically its lifeblood. If it was _very_ lucky, all its problems would solve each other without its interference.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *sound of roller coaster cars cranking uphill*
> 
> If you haven't seen it, I posted a fluffy bonus scene on its own a few weeks back. Look at my works. It's called “Polynomial Expansion” because I am a dweeb.
> 
> Sayaka's Magia Record transformation finally came out. I need a joke comic of Homura hurling Sayaka at Kyōko by the cape like in the clip, but with Sayaka visible and making funny faces instead of wrapped up in the cape and Kyōko making a shocked face in the background.
> 
> ...Kinda like the time Ichigo hurled Rukia at Renji by the obi, now that I think about it.  
> Oh my God  
> Ichigo and Homura ARE siblings


	65. VIERUNDSECHZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, I managed to get farther ahead sooner than I thought. Three characters staged a month-long strike to protest that my original plans had become out-of-character for them as they developed and I had to adjust plot to match. Which was a major pain because it messed with the calendar and who was where when. But I worked something out and the characters started working again.
> 
> It fascinates me that I've solidified my concept of these characters so strongly that “they” flag me down when I'm “forcing” them to do a thing “wrong.”

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

**VIERUNDSECHZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

Akon trudged into the Twelfth Division labs at dawn on Tuesday, clinging to his large thermos of coffee for dear life and already itching for a smoke. He sat at his desk, pressed a button, and watched his computer boot up as he savored sweet, sweet caffeine. Peace in the lab. Yes.

When his captain materialized from the shadows like a ghoul, Akon didn't even flinch. “Good morning, Captain.”

Kurotsuchi looked more irritable than usual-- must've pulled another all-nighter. He carelessly tossed a tablet onto Akon's desk. Rude. “After your initial rounds, your project for the day is to study this evidence and research the relevant areas in our databases. Double check the integrity of any sensors involved. Report anything interesting to me.” With that, Kurotsuchi went his way muttering something about modifying lapidary saws. Akon stared after him.

Well, that was ominously vague.

Curious but also in possession of a healthy sense of self-preservation, Akon set aside the tablet and went through his daily start-up routine as ordered. Thinking ahead, he set up several diagnostics to run on various sensor arrays before the bulk of the workforce showed up and slowed scans down.

After an hour of checking on various experiments and specimens, Akon finally sat down with the tablet. At first he didn't understand why the hell he had been given articles about such seemingly mundane occurrences in addition to the on-site sensor data Urahara had sent, but he slowly became engrossed by the details and speculation about the patterns formed by them as described in the accompanying notes. Akon went through everything a second time, outlining a research plan. After mid-morning rounds, repairing his eardrums after an unexpected explosion, and lunch, Akon sat down to research in earnest. The more data he compared, the more he frowned.

That couldn't be right.

But the more he looked, the more all the various points of investigation agreed. What they agreed upon made no goddamn sense, but that many independent points of confluence was hard to argue with. No wonder his captain had been grouchier than usual and demanded sensor evaluation. Time for independent confirmation.

Akon went to the Spiritual Wave Measurement Lab and approached Rin Tsubokura. More considerate than his superior, Akon got Rin's attention then stood back and silently waited for him to finish what he was doing. Ten minutes later, Akon gave Rin a blank research outline with no context as a control. Rin eyed him curiously but Akon refused to elaborate.

Four hours later, Rin appeared in Akon's doorway sporting an uncharacteristic frown.

“Yes?”

“This makes no sense.”

Akon sat back. “I'm not the only one, then. Any ideas?”

Rin looked down at his tablet doubtfully. “I suppose that sector of the remote sensor array could be compromised. I ordered Kajiura's team to manually inspect it and overhaul it. I don't really think they'll find anything, though-- the likelihood a cluster of errors this dense would go unnoticed for almost thirty years is very small.”

Akon leaned on one elbow and propped up his head. “What do you propose, then?”

“On-site readings,” Rin said, pursing his lips. “The portable reishi analysis machine has more delicate capabilities than the wide-scale sensor array. I'd... like to confirm these readings before you report to Captain Kurotsuchi. Have proof that it's not long-term shoddy maintenance.”

 _Keep his department alive and sane if possible_ , Akon translated. “That won't be necessary. Kisuke Urahara has been on-site and provided data. It looks like it correlates with our remote readings, but I'll forward it to you for review. There are also potential sites of disturbances with aberrant readings in the information I held back. Dig into those and compare with our existing data. If you need anything new, outline it and I'll forward it to Urahara to gather on-site.”

Rin nodded and bit his lip in worry as he looked down at the tablet again. “The discrepancy between what the readings _are_ and _should be_ is... disturbing. But I think it went unnoticed this long because the readings blend in with others in the area. They don't look abnormal if you don't cross-reference population demographics. We've only really poked at population numbers when looking for an explanation for a sudden increase or decrease in spiritual density and Hollow population. This has been steady-- not suspicious.”

“Assign some people to look around Japan for other population centers whose readings don't seem to correlate with number of occupants.”

Rin looked dismayed. “That'll take _forever_.” He sighed and nibbled his thumbnail. “Maybe Hiyosu can write a program to flag potential points of interest for further study,” he muttered, gradually more quietly.

“Have him do that while you compare our data to Urahara's,” Akon said with a firm nod. “It would be useful if we end up expanding the scope beyond Japan. Lieutenant Kurotsuchi is also involved in the overarching investigation, so if Hiyosu needs more programming talent to draw from, tell him to go to her.”

Rin's eyebrows knit in worry. “This is part of something bigger?”

“Possibly. I don't want to give you confirmation bias with details and I don't have all the info either, but it may be an enemy conspiracy of some kind.”

Rin grimaced. “I'll sideline as many assignments as possible to prioritize this, then.”

Akon smiled thinly. “I appreciate it.”

§ x § x §

Homura had a thoroughly domestic breakfast in the Kurosaki household, spent the morning in the clinic with Isshin having discussions about the Precipice World between patients while Ichigo did classwork, ate lunch with them, and left shortly thereafter. The hotheaded blonde who had verbally attacked Homura and Karin was not present when Ichigo took Homura to Urahara Shop to use the reishi henkan-ki. This time they were escorted by a short, dark-haired young woman who exchanged pleasantly sarcastic barbs with Ichigo the entire trip. Homura observed Rukia Kuchiki carefully, thinking of how she had been described as _one of the family around here_ in the previous timeline. Captain Ukitake was waiting for them at the end of the tunnel again; it turned out Kuchiki was his second-in-command. Homura was allowed to walk to the edge of the Senkaimon platform once more to look at Seireitei in daylight. The city was vast, but its circular edge bordered a yet larger sprawl of more spaced-out buildings and rolling countryside. Kuchiki told her about the Rukon districts where most souls resided. Then they turned and traversed the Precipice World again, emerging in the basement training room in the magic shop. Ichigo gave her a warm pep talk and a hug which she hesitantly returned as Kuchiki looked on fondly. Then they were gone and Homura was alone with Mr. Tsukabishi.

“Captain Hitsugaya and Miss Tomoe are at school. Boss is in the courtyard with his project.”

Curious, Homura made her way up through the trapdoor and navigated to the courtyard. The gray sky was heavy with the promise of rain, which made her blink in disorientation for a moment; it had been sunny in Karakura and Soul Society. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Kisuke Urahara standing in front of the open pigeon coop, arms spread and completely covered in birds. There were even three perched on his hat.

Urahara spun around to face her and cheerfully greeted, “Welcome back, Miss Akemi!” as pigeons flapped their wings for balance and resettled on him. He looked like a manic scarecrow with dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

“What are you doing,” Homura said flatly, not even sure she really wanted to know.

“ _Well_ , I purposely chose a property with a koi pond and installed a pigeon coop so they would be visible from the tall buildings around us so the Incubator could see them,” he explained. “I've also been throwing birdseed out in the yard and leaving dishes of water and food out for other critters every day. I wanted to establish a reputation as an eccentric _friend to all creatures!_ ”

Homura stared through a long silence. Morbid curiosity won out. “ _Why?_ ”

“Partly to encourage local stray cats and dogs and crows to hang around and make life difficult for the Incubator,” Urahara said with a sly smile. “I even have a few raccoons showing up every night from the storm drains! Did you know raccoons are also spiritually sensitive? It's true!” He laughed and swayed his arms to make the birds flutter around again. Without waiting for a reaction from Homura, he cooed, “So there _is_ that, but I mostly did it so I could replace the real pigeons with these surveillance drones!”

“...Pigeons. For surveillance.” Homura looked at him sideways and doubted his sanity. “ _Why?_ ”

Urahara grinned wickedly. “Yoruichi _did_ report that the Incubator told the girls it doesn't bother avoiding columbids because they're too dumb to notice it. If a pigeon starts pecking around within sight of it, the Incubator could decline to avoid it. I want to use that to monitor its movements. I just had to make gigai that looked like pigeons but which contained concealed surveillance equipment like camera eyes while looking completely natural. The hardest part was actually creating Mod Souls with no sentience but which could recognize Incubators and follow remote suggestions in a way that was believably pigeon-like. That and making sure each drone physically matched the lured bird it was replacing. That will be an ongoing thing as new birds show up for snackies.” Urahara made a kissy face at a pigeon that pecked at his unshaven cheek. He raised his arms suddenly and cackled, “Fly, my pretties, fly! Ah- _hahahahaha!_ ” as the startled birds took flight.

Obnoxious and eccentric, but brilliant, everyone always told Homura.

“Where are the original birds?” Homura asked with dread.

“In a coop in one of my labs, which has a trap door into the inside of this pigeon coop. It's _disguised_. And don't worry-- I'm taking good care of them.”

Homura stared for a moment, then dully said, “Those poor birds.”

“You _wound_ me, Miss Akemi.” The shopkeeper grinned, looked her over, and commented, “You seem to be more relaxed.”

“Yes,” Homura agreed.

“They're good for you.”

“Yes.”

“We need to sit down and have a talk.”

“Yes.”

Urahara looked pleased.

They went inside and sat down to tea provided by Mr. Tsukabishi. There was a long, awkward silence as they stared at each other and listened to the scattered patter of a drizzle starting up outside. Homura decided to take the initiative and be halfway diplomatic.

“I... appreciated the... downtime. I was able to slow down and think. I had no opportunity to do so last week. I had no time to adjust to your arrival before a sudden transition into an unfamiliar life-and-death emergency.” Homura pursed her lips and considered her words carefully, uncertain about how to express some of her thoughts. “I think... the reaction... stacked? Accumulated? Or... was intensified by the Sōju situation. That the horror of the events that followed... magnified my reaction by association.” She looked up at the shopkeeper darkly. “Do not misunderstand me to mean that your invasion is... water under the bridge. I am still _very_ angry. I am just practical enough to realize your presence has tangible benefits. I am very aware that in your absence, my only options on Wednesday night were death or Madoka or Sayaka wishing my body healed. You and the others have my gratitude for that.” Homura canted her head to one side and looked down her nose at him disdainfully. “Your _presence_ is not the true problem. The _lack of coordination_ is.” She leaned forward with an intense expression. “ _Never_ surprise me like that again.”

Urahara met her eyes solemnly and nodded. “I will strive to be more partner than interloper.” He smiled faintly. “I've had it pointed out to me that we have similar mindsets regarding gathering and sharing of information and plans. That we both are used to being in control by virtue of knowing the most about any given situation. It makes sense that we would... clash, especially as we both come from different angles of understanding of events we did not realize were interconnected.” He tilted his head and gave her an even look. “I request that you acknowledge that cooperation is a two-way street. You need to meet me in the middle.”

Homura pursed her lips and inclined her chin. “I shall endeavor to do so.”

The scientist weighed her with his gaze and nodded firmly. “Let us begin anew.”

“Yes.”

They sipped their tea quietly for a couple minutes in a way that made Homura think of some kind of peace ritual. Then Urahara took a deep breath and looked at her seriously.

“In the spirit of cooperation, I wish to inform you that Tomohisa Kaname visited the shop while Miss Kaname and the others were at school yesterday.”

Homura blinked slowly as her mind stumbled on the information. “What? Why?”

“Please bear with me,” Urahara said with a placating gesture. Instead of answering directly, he asked her questions. “Have Miss Kaname's parents ever seemed to know that something... odd is going on?”

She looked down at her tea and frowned in thought; he let her. “I am... uncertain.”

“Have you ever noticed a difference between how Miss Kaname's parents react to their daughter staying out late or otherwise behaving differently because of her magical girl duties, versus how Miss Miki's parents react?”

“Yes,” Homura answered immediately. “Mr. and Mrs. Kaname have always been far more permissive than Mr. and Mrs. Miki. Sayaka is good at hiding it, but she gets in trouble for going out late. Madoka's parents are... concerned, but do not yell at her or ground her. They tell her-- and sometimes me or the others-- to be careful, take care of herself, to tell them if there is a problem she needs help with.” She thought for another moment. “Madoka has said... that her parents give her advice when she speaks to them in general terms about the social dynamics of the local magical girls. But they do not pry.”

Urahara looked down at his teacup with an unfocused but thoughtful expression as he ran one finger around the cup's rim. Homura let him think until it seemed he had gotten quite lost in his skull.

“Mr. Urahara?”

He started. “Oh, sorry.”

“What happened?”

Urahara took a deep breath and said, “Apparently, Tomohisa Kaname is modestly spiritually aware. And knows his daughter is powerfully so. And Junko Kaname is not spiritually aware, but knows her husband and children are.” One corner of his mouth quirked. “Mr. Kaname noticed his daughter's protective charm bracelet and came here to seek more for the rest of the family. Then he noticed our wards and asked if I could construct some around the Kaname house.”

Homura stared with wide eyes, lips parted in surprise.

“You never noticed, I take it?” Urahara asked.

“No.” Homura's brows knit. “How could I have missed it?”

Urahara hummed as he took a sip of tea, then said, “I've been thinking about that. Part of it could be simply not thinking to look, but have you ever been near Mr. Kaname without Miss Kaname nearby?”

“I do not think so,” Homura replied as she lifted her own cup.

“Your senses may have been washed out by her reiatsu,” Urahara said with a nod. “Her father is _far_ less powerful than she is-- as is her brother. It could be like trying to hear snapping fingers over a drum line. Think of how other people's reiatsu is muffled if you are very near Ichigo when he's bothered and the others are calm. Except the power differential between Miss Kaname and her father is far greater than that between Ichigo and his family.” After a pause, he added, “Ah, that could explain Yoruichi not mentioning anything. I'll have to ask her.”

“I see.” Homura frowned. “Did you learn anything else?”

“Yes, actually, I did.” Urahara tapped his fingers on the side of his cup. “The family was originally from Soma. Mr. Kaname was aware of Hollows, but called them cursed spirits. His grandfather had some spiritual awareness and passed down what he knew. Mr. Kaname is only powerful enough to see Hollows translucently instead of solidly. The Kaname family moved here when Madoka was a baby because her father noticed Hollows sniffing around her and he accidentally discovered that there are no Hollows in Mitakihara when they visited for a few weeks. Mrs. Kaname takes such things seriously enough to immediately transfer here for the safety of her child.” He dipped his chin and peered at her with sharp eyes from the shadow cast by his hat. “Mr. Kaname has sensed the Hollow-like energy coming off his daughter after she has been in a labyrinth and noticed that her power burns it off by morning.”

Homura stared at him, dumbfounded. Then she took _her_ turn to absently look at her tea while her mind raced, turning over memories in light of the new information.

Urahara stayed quiet for a long while, either watching her or idly running his fingers along his teacup. After awhile, he prompted, “Does this information change your understanding of anything from past timelines?”

“I am... still uncertain. I need to think about this.”

“I understand,” Urahara said with a pleasant nod. “I must also tell you that he asked about the cat-spirit that got in his daughter's room.”

Homura raised a brow in inquiry.

“He saw the fur and blood the Incubator left behind after Yoruichi's attack. He said the fur evaporated and the blood came out when he charged the water with his power.”

Homura's other brow joined the first.

Urahara rocked his head and hesitantly said, “I explained the Incubator to him in general terms.”

She went rigid. “What.”

“I told him that we are investigating a spirit-creature that offers girls a wish in exchange for their souls, without telling them they are selling their souls. I made no mention of magical girls as such.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I told him his daughter had been offered such a contract, but that she turned it down due to her knowledge of contracts from her mother... and your warnings.”

“ _What?!_ ”

Urahara looked grim. “My apologies, but I told him you had completed a contract to save your best friend's life.”

Rage. _Hot_ rage. Such a significant breach of secrecy, and behind her back--! Her blood rushed in her ears. She opened her mouth to reply but could find no words.

“I did so to increase his likelihood of cooperating with us by stoking moral outrage. He is furious at the Incubator and willing to be used as a tool to thwart it. He requested wards to keep Madoka even safer than just the bracelet could offer.”

Homura narrowed her eyes at him, noticing his use of Madoka's given name and safety to draw her focus. She said nothing, but his face told her he noticed that she noticed all the same. Homura felt like there was an invisible chessboard between them on the table; they were still playing against one another instead of opposing the Incubator as a unified force.

“I do apologize for not consulting with you first, but I hope you can understand that Mr. Kaname took me by surprise and I felt the benefits of seizing the opportunity he presented outweighed the drawbacks of proceeding without you.”

Homura only noticed that she was gripping the table's edge to restrain anger when one of her nails broke from the pressure of drawing the fingers back as though clawing something. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take deep breaths.

“I--”

“ _Shut up and let me think!_ ” Homura snapped without opening her eyes.

Urahara fell silent.

She knew she needed to calm down and be more productive than lashing out. What he had done was done. Anger over it would not be helpful. Homura grasped for something calming to focus on and settled on the mixed memories of Madoka and Yuzu braiding her hair. Deep breaths. After several minutes of calming herself and thinking, Homura slowly opened her eyes and frowned severely at Urahara.

“Tell me what he knows.”

If Urahara was put off by her barking orders, he didn't show it. He laid out what Madoka's father seemed to already know and what he had been told the day before so neatly it may as well have been an itemized list complete with bullet points. Homura sat impassively through it all, making a point of sipping from her teacup as though unperturbed. Urahara went quiet again when he was done, leaving her to her thoughts for several minutes.

Gritting her teeth, Homura said, “I will... concede... that your choice of action could have practical benefits in the future. I also am grateful that you volunteered this information as soon as I returned. _However_ ,” she snapped with a scowl, “you _must_ make surprising or not consulting me more of an exception than a habit.”

Urahara grinned faintly and dipped his head in assent. “I will do my utmost.”

“Do you have any plans regarding Mr. Kaname?”

“Not at the moment, though I have a couple ideas that would possibly involve telling him or even his wife more--”

“What do you mean, tell his wife _more?_ ” Homura demanded. “You spoke with her?”

“Not at all!” Urahara said with a cheerfully dismissive wave. “But in marriages as apparently healthy as the Kaname's and considering her prior knowledge of her family's powers, I would be _very_ surprised if Mr. Kaname hasn't shared everything with her by now.”

Homura frowned, unconvinced, but gestured for him to continue. “You were saying?”

“Ah, yes. I wish to more thoroughly assess the pros and cons of any use of them and consult you before acting since you know them better. I have some time to actually give that some thought now. Until today, I had been focusing on finishing the surveillance drones. Our dearly departed Misses Sōju pushed me quite behind schedule,” he said wryly. “I had originally planned to deploy the drones this past Friday.”

Homura poured herself another cup of tea and breezily declared, “If I do end up having to go back again, I plan to kill them on sight.”

Urahara's sharp grin bordered on bloodthirsty. “Please, do. Just be mindful of who sees or otherwise knows you do it.”

“Of course.”

“Or see if you can taunt them into showing you the Soul Gems again first.”

“Oh, I have a few ideas,” Homura said coolly. She poured more tea into his cup while he let out a conspiratorial laugh, then said, “Dr. Kurosaki told me you have assigned him to investigate Sōju's movements from the time of her disappearance from her home.”

“Yes,” Urahara said with a nod of gratitude as he took his tea. “The late Misses Sōju bequeathed us a fortune in objects and information to study. I simply cannot spare time to investigate their path of destruction now that we don't have to worry about their interference. Isshin is good at tracking things like that through news sites so he'll have a package neatly arranged for you to plan counter-strategy against them if you have to go back. Probably also a list of potential identities for those forty-three Soul Gems, too. I don't know if he'll finish it by the turnback point but at the very least he should have a good foundation to build on.”

Homura nodded and quietly thought more. “Do you really plan to ward the Kaname household?”

“Yes,” Urahara replied as he set his teacup down after a sip. “Tessai is doing the bulk of the prep work and charm construction so I can focus on experiments and research.”

“That is reasonable,” Homura said pleasantly.

“I'd like you to observe when we do the installation so you can see practical application of theory.” Urahara tilted his head in inquiry. “Have you had time to read the introduction to ward theory Tessai gave you last week? I know you've been... quite busy.”

Homura hummed a negative and shook her head. “I had planned to look at it tonight. What he explained to me on the tour last week sounded like an extension of barrier-type kidō, so I reviewed the introductory booklet on that this morning whenever Dr. Kurosaki was with patients.”

Urahara nodded agreeably. “I'm also having him compile some reading material on intermediate kidō theory for your reference. We are very busy right now, but if you can get a solid foundation in theory it will be easier to teach you kidō when one of us does have time.”

“I appreciate that.” After a prim sip of her tea, Homura casually asked, “Are you seeking to distract me from something?”

Urahara grinned. “Is giving you material to read at your leisure a distraction?”

“That is not an answer.”

The grin widened. “You know, if Yoruichi and I were still captains among the shinigami and you were an academy graduate, we would be fighting each other tooth and nail over who would recruit your sharp mind to our divisions.”

“Still not an answer,” Homura said lightly, “but I would lean toward Tenth. If nothing else, I know their captain is sane.”

Urahara's surprised laugh was unexpectedly entertaining. He spoke with good-natured ease.“To answer your question: Yes. But it has to do with incomplete research I wish to delay sharing until I have conclusive results. Speculation can be counterproductive.”

Homura eyed him skeptically. His word games and deflections were too similar to those employed by the Incubator for her comfort, but she had promised Ichigo she would try. “I do not believe you,” she said bluntly, “but I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. For now.” She looked at the clock and stood. “I am going to meet the others as they get out of school. I do not know what we will do afterward. Call us if you need us.” With that, she pushed her hair back and left.

§ x § x §

Kisuke watched the girl leave and considered his tea again.

Benihime was smug. _What did I tell you?_

“To paraphrase, I believe you said she is intelligent enough to recognize that she could benefit from my presence, information, and instruction if I don't provoke her fight or flight response,” he murmured into his teacup. Kisuke took a swig of tea and continued in thought, _That she is hyper-aware of the potential for conspiracy and betrayal, but volunteering information regularly will make it less likely she'll notice when I strategically omit some._ He smacked his lips and sighed, “Ah, too bad she noticed.”

 _Of course she did_ , Benihime sniffed. _This is the first time she got information from you without prying it out with a crowbar. Be consistent and the suspicion will lessen._

 _If she's as like me as you think, she'll never fully trust what I say_ , Kisuke thought.

 _Of course not_ , Benihime said with a scoff. _That is why I said lessen, not disappear._

Kisuke smiled ruefully. _Right as always, milady._

Benihime preened, then commanded him, _Now get some sleep, you overachieving idiot._

_There is so much to be done, though._

_Better to do it with a well-rested mind_ , Benihime retorted. _Ye gods, I haven't had to scold you about this so frequently since you were first promoted to captain._

Kisuke smiled into his teacup and reminisced about the first weeks he had begun to convert Twelfth Division into a scientific powerhouse. _Those were good times._

_They were, yes. But you collapsed in exhaustion three weeks in, you fool._

_This is also true_ , Kisuke thought wryly.

 _Let your avian surveillance system collect data and go to bed_ , Benihime commanded.

Kisuke laughed aloud. “As milady wishes.”

Benihime projected the sense of a condescending sneer, sniffed something sarcastic about wishes, and withdrew into her dim chambers strewn with red silk and incense.

A nap _did_ sound good. And it was usually beneficial to look at things with a fresh set of eyes after a break.

§ x § x §

Madoka's heart skipped a beat when she read the text message Hitsugaya had sent her while she and Sayaka were packing their school things and waving Hitomi off as she rushed to a student council meeting.

_Akemi is feeling well enough to leave the shop now. My uncle says she is coming to meet us after school._

Sayaka's phone trilled a moment later. Their eyes met and they smiled with relief.

They met up with Hitsugaya and Mami in the courtyard and left together. Upon rounding a curve in the path leading away from school, they found Homura holding a black umbrella and absently scanning the wooded area bisected by the stream. The tension Madoka had held since Saturday night released all at once at the sight of her friend looking so much calmer than she had. Madoka couldn't help herself-- she dropped her bag and umbrella and rushed to hug Homura with a tearful, “I'm so glad you're okay!”

After a moment of hesitation, Homura's free arm came up and lightly returned the hug. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I am happy to see you again.”

Madoka giggled through her tears and hugged her friend harder. Homura was _happy_ to see her! Happy!

“Good to see you out of your funk, Stranger Danger,” Sayaka said with a grin.

Homura nodded at her and murmured a thanks of some sort. Hitsugaya and Mami's greetings were more subdued, having been pretending that they saw her holed up at the shop each day. Mami did look relieved, though.

“I would like to go to our café,” Homura said pleasantly, “but perhaps we should make our purchases and take them to the shop to relax.” She looked into the woods on her left again. “I think I saw an Incubator in a tree.”

Everyone's moods soured. Sayaka turned toward the trees, cupped one hand beside her mouth, and shouted, “ _What have we told you about stalking, you little creep?! We're not buying what you're selling! Scram!_ ”

Madoka and Mami giggled despite their unease and even Homura and Hitsugaya had ghosts of smiles. Sayaka flipped her short hair in an imitation of Homura and looked pleased with herself.

It took them an hour to get to the café, watch Sayaka needle Hitsugaya at the pastry counter, and troop up to the edge of Mitakihara on the train. They spent another hour eating their purchases and doing homework. Sayaka and Madoka jealously watched Homura blaze through all the classwork she had missed as though it was simply review. Mami's laughter was musical and Homura actually smiled several times. Madoka was sad to see it end, but it was getting dark and she and Sayaka had parents to display good behavior to, so they needed to go home. They were just picking up their school bags when Mami's phone rang.

“Ah, it's Nagisa,” Mami said worriedly. She picked up with a beep and a, “Hello? Are you all right?” Her face got more troubled from there. “We'll be there soon,” she finished. After she hung up she glanced between Hitsugaya and Homura. “Nagisa says there's a labyrinth near her apartment. She hasn't seen anyone go in and is staying outside it like we told her to.”

Homura stood, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and coolly said, “Let's go.”

“Guess that's our cue to leave!” Sayaka chirped awkwardly. “You kids have fun with your superhero stuff, yeah? I want to hear stories!”

Homura initially looked disgruntled but rolled her eyes and stepped away. Hitsugaya and Mami followed her. They were already taking to the rooftops when Tessai was escorting Madoka and Sayaka out the front door and handing them their umbrellas. They watched their friends disappear and stared at the empty sky for a long minute.

“They'll be fine,” Tessai soothed. Both girls turned to him. He smiled. “They're all competent and very alert now. They know the importance of watching each other's backs. They'll be fine.”

“What if they aren't?” Madoka asked, unable to keep the worried squeak out of her voice.

“That's what me and the boss are here for,” the big man rumbled, something hard and scary gleaming in his usually gentle eyes. “Go home. I'll tell them to message you when it's over.”

Madoka and Sayaka agreed. The entire trip home was accomplished in utter silence as both of them fidgeted nervously.

§ x § x §

Nagisa stood under a ragged awning with her umbrella angled outward to block more of the rain as she fidgeted uncertainly and chewed a nail. She watched the wavering air over the fire hydrant outside the abandoned construction site Daddy had warned her not to cut through on the way home from school because stray dogs lived there. It hadn't been super smart to do it even if she did feel much safer with Yo-yo trotting along at her heels, but it was raining, she had wanted to get home fast, and she had galoshes to keep the mud off her shoes so she had done it anyway. Yo-yo had hissed and puffed her fur at a couple scrawny dogs that were sitting in the openings of a pile of huge pipes, but they had only whuffed halfheartedly and stayed in their dry shelter. Nagisa had thought herself home free when she ducked through a hole in the chain link fence and nearly ran smack into a pink labyrinth sigil in her hurry to get out of the worsening rain.

Yo-yo had yowled, dodged in front of her, and turned to face her with her hackles raised. Nagisa hadn't really needed the warning; she jumped aside quickly, tripped on the uneven pavement, and scrabbled backward until she hit a light post. She panted in fear for a minute, then relaxed enough to pick up her discarded umbrella and move farther away. Yo-yo followed her, staying between her and the fire hydrant even though the sigil faded once she was away from it. Now the cat was crowding at Nagisa's legs and meowing while Nagisa waited for Miss Mami to show up and help her, like she had been told to.

Nagisa startled when Miss Mami dropped to the sidewalk from a nearby rooftop. She wasn't surprised to see Mr. Hitsugaya with her, but Nagisa tensed when Miss Homura alighted on the pavement with them. The dark-haired magical girl noticed and tilted her head aside with a frown as her companions sought the entrance to the labyrinth.

“We fought in a Familiar labyrinth with this symbol yesterday,” Mr. Hitsugaya said.

Miss Homura glanced at him as Yo-yo trotted over to her and wove through her legs in greeting. “Oh? What was in it?” Then she knelt and scratched Yo-yo's chin and ears as Miss Mami described everything they saw and did.

“That-- that sounds easy,” Nagisa said hesitantly.

“Just because they did not attack last time does not necessarily mean they will not attack this time,” Miss Homura emotionlessly said with a dismissive wave. She paused as she noticed Nagisa's flinch. Miss Mami and Mr. Hitsugaya turned and gave Miss Homura the same kind of flat look Mommy used to give Daddy when he did something she didn't like. Miss Homura stared at Nagisa until it made her nervous and on the verge of tears, then took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “I apologize,” she said solemnly.

“What?” Nagisa said blankly.

“I apologize for being short with you,” Miss Homura said. “I am aware that my impatience with newer magical girls is a problem. I am most accustomed to fighting alone or with equally experienced combatants. I will try to improve my attitude and be more cooperative.” She pursed her lips then added, “I also owe you an apology for Saturday night. I was unnecessarily cruel. I will endeavor to control such behavior.”

“What?” Nagisa repeated.

Miss Homura frowned and knit her eyebrows. Mr. Hitsugaya's mouth twitched with amusement and he said, “Akemi is sorry she was mean to you and will try to do better from now on. She's not used to working with beginners, so she keeps expecting you to act like you have a lot of practice and gets mad when you don't. She knows it's wrong and is sorry she hurt your feelings.”

Nagisa blinked away her tears. “O-oh.”

Miss Homura looked at him sideways. “Did you really need to translate that?”

Mr. Hitsugaya returned the sideways glance and droned, “Obviously.”

Miss Mami lightly covered her mouth to stifle a laugh then turned to the sigil. “Miss Akemi is right, Nagisa. Always expect the possibility that Familiars may behave differently in a Witch's true labyrinth.” She turned to Miss Homura and raised her brows. “Do you have a preference for how we handle this?”

Miss Homura looked surprised for a moment, then thoughtful. “If it looks the same as the Familiar labyrinth, I think you two should handle the Familiars in the same way. If it is just another Familiar labyrinth, I will talk Momoe through the reasons you fight as you do. If the Witch is inside, I will guide Momoe through defeating it.”

It was Nagisa's turn to look surprised. “Really?!”

“Of course,” Miss Homura said as she triggered the violet light of her transformation. “If you practice with supervision, you will be in a better position to fight if you are caught by yourself another time.” After a pause, she quietly added, “I told you last week that I am concerned that you could be overwhelmed in battle because you have little experience. Now that the emergency has passed, I have time to help you make sure that never happens.” Miss Homura cocked her head in thought and said, “Give me your backpack and umbrella. I will put them in my shield so they do not get in your way and you do not lose them.”

“Okay!” Nagisa scrubbed an arm across her eyes, sniffled, and chirped, “Thank you _sooo_ much!” She handed over her things and triggered her own transformation with a wobbly smile. Miss Mami looked at the two of them with warm affection as her own costume appeared from yellow light and Mr. Hitsugaya swung his ice sword around to stretch his arm. Yo-yo sat on a stoop and watched them.

The labyrinth looked just like Miss Mami said, a pretty little village on a rainy day with swirls of metal on the street. Miss Mami looked around with narrowed eyes. “There's a Witch in here. I can feel it.”

“Doesn't feel particularly strong, but you never know if weak enemies are going to be tricky,” Mr. Hitsugaya muttered, shifting to have his back parallel to Miss Mami's as he also scanned the opposite area.

“Shield your Soul Gems,” Miss Homura ordered as she tugged Nagisa's poncho to get her to stand between Miss Mami and Mr. Hitsugaya, violet light swirling into a small cage around her own diamond.

Miss Mami turned to her in confusion. “Sōju isn't a problem anymore.”

Miss Homura met her eyes with a grim frown. “Familiars and Witches can get lucky and hit a Soul Gem in the middle of battle. I have... seen it happen. Several times,” she said heavily. “Instant death with no chance of recovery.”

Miss Mami went white and swallowed hard, one hand darting up to brush against the yellow jewel on her hat. Nagisa covered the gem on her tummy with her palm.

Mr. Hitsugaya briefly closed his eyes and looked... Nagisa didn't think tired was the right word, but that was the closest she could come to describing his downcast face when he looked at them over his shoulder. “That, and friendly fire. We could accidentally hit each other in the fog of battle, as I hit the Soul Gems in the battle with Sōju. Better to be safe. I should have reminded you in the last one we fought, Tomoe.”

“It is best to make it a habit,” Miss Homura added.

A loud clunking sounded from the ground beneath them and the doors of every building popped open. Nagisa and Miss Mami made shields for their Soul Gems as they all watched to see if the automatons would act the same. When the others said they were acting the same, Miss Homura took a deep breath and quietly said, “Miss Momoe, your lesson will now commence.”

Nagisa snapped to attention, determined to make Miss Homura proud. “Okay!”

“Why are Tomoe and Hitsugaya standing back to back?”

An easy one! “So no one sneaks up on them!”

Miss Homura nodded. “Why are we standing between them?”

“Umm.” Nagisa peered around them at the approaching automatons. “Cuz... cuz they know how to fight the other thingies?”

“Yes. And also?”

Nagisa noticed that Miss Homura wasn't looking at her, but all around them. “Looking... oh! If _they_ fight the thingies, _we_ can look for the Witch!”

“Good,” Miss Homura said with an approving nod. “This time, _I_ will look for the Witch. I want you to watch Tomoe and Hitsugaya fight. Pay attention to things they do and try to figure out why they do them that way. Where they hit things, why they hit them where they do, why they choose to pause before an attack, everything.”

“Okay!”

So Nagisa spent the next ten minutes turning from one combatant to the other, awestruck by the smooth, efficient brutality with which they dismantled whirling clay figures as they approached.

“Oh, Nagisa,” Miss Mami called out pleasantly as a bank of big guns blew the heads off half a dozen automatons, “Why are we staying still instead of moving around? Why aren't we chasing them?”

Nagisa made uncertain sounds and turned to look at Mr. Hitsugaya, whose feet were planted solidly as he swept his sword at the necks of another half dozen automatons that were--

“They spin right into your attacks!” Nagisa answered excitedly. “It's _easier_ than chasing!”

Mr. Hitsugaya actually huffed something like a little laugh and Miss Mami sang, “ _Ding-ding-ding!_ Nagisa wins a prize~!”

“Yay! What kind of--”

“I think I see it,” Miss Homura interrupted.

Everyone's smiles fell. Mr. Hitsugaya grimly asked, “Where and what?” as he cut down more clay figures. Then he added, “Tch, the dolls are endless this time.”

“Is that a problem for you?” Miss Homura asked airily. “And I think it is the pink and white dog down Tomoe's side of the street.”

The boy scoffed. “ _Annoying_ , more like,” he drawled. “Go do the interesting part.”

“Eh? What dog?” Mami asked worriedly, trying to peer past the automatons she was destroying.

“It is slinking around low to the ground over a block away,” Miss Homura said as she squinted through the rain. “You are aiming at heads instead of looking down. Momoe and I will take care of it.” Nagisa froze as Miss Homura turned her intense violet eyes on her. “Come with me.”

“O-okay,” Nagisa squeaked.

Miss Homura tilted her head and looked at her for a long moment, then turned and walked straight for a row of quaint storefronts. Nagisa gasped as a row of automatons approached her, but they were eliminated by golden blasts from Miss Mami's guns. Miss Homura looked at Nagisa over her shoulder. “Come. Tomoe and Hitsugaya will cover us.” She didn't so much as flinch as her hair whipped in the backwash of icicles the size of Nagisa's arm rocketing past her like machine gun fire to take out a fresh wave of automatons as they emerged from a newly-opened door, which was soon blocked shut with more ice. Miss Homura frowned with a touch of impatience, so Nagisa hurried after her.

They jumped up onto an awning and hopped along the street from window sill to ledge to lamp post. The Familiars endlessly emerged from doors, but stayed on their tracks. Miss Homura stopped on a little balcony about two blocks from her friends and pointed down into the spinning automatons. “There. That is the Witch. What do you notice about it?”

It really was a dog. It reminded Nagisa of drawings of poodles, a skinny white body with p **u** ffs of pink fur on its ankles and tail wit **h** a wafting mane of pink fu **r** from the shoulders up. The **m** ane shifted in a way th **a** t reminded Nagisa of fire, ig **n** oring the rain that should have made it lay la **n** k. Multicolored ribbons were tied in bows throughout the mane. The Witch was turned away so she couldn't see its face, weaving through the whirling automatons and pawing at them as if begging for their attention. It wagged its tail hopefully and whined as it cast about. Nagisa wanted to run up to it and hug it all better.

Miss Homura would probably not like if her first words were _It's so cute!_

“It... it looks like a sad puppy?”

After a pause to purse her lips, Miss Homura said, “ _Looks like_ is the key. It is not really a... _sad puppy_.” Her distaste was obvious and made Nagisa swallow nervously. Miss Homura noticed and sighed. “Looking cute is a trick to make you think it is less dangerous than it is.” Nagisa didn't understand the strange look Miss Homura was giving her. “Even cute... dogs... have teeth.”

“Oh.”

“How would you attack it?”

Nagisa couldn't keep the distress off her face at the prospect of attacking the poodle looking for a nice person to pet it. “I-- I don't know.”

Miss Homura stared at her neutrally for a moment then said, “Its trick is working on you.”

Tears welled in Nagisa's eyes. She needed to be grown-up. “I-- I'd-- use my bubbles.”

“How so?”

Nagisa looked at the pitiful creature nudging at automatons for pets the way Yo-yo did at home and sniffled hard. “I-- ca-can't.” The tears spilled down her cheeks and left scalding trails of shame in their wake.

Miss Homura shifted awkwardly, sighed, and brushed her hand against Nagisa's shoulder. “Pretend it is just a toy.”

“But I--!” Nagisa clamped her mouth shut before she could say that she didn't like hurting toys either, face burning as she felt how much of a silly little baby she was next to Miss Homura. She took a deep breath and shakily said, “I could-- I could trap it in a big bubble and get clll- _lohhh_ -ser and put littler bubbles inside and m-make them explll-lode inside the big bubble.” That poor not-a-puppy. She felt horrible.

But Miss Homura looked like she approved. Cold approval, but approval. Possibly even a little impressed? “Do it.”

Nagisa's face froze. “But-- but--”

“Momoe-- no. Nagisa.” The older girl's face fell from sternness into something tired, like Mr. Hitsugaya's had been earlier, and she heavily said, “I need to know that you can protect yourself. I need you to not let your feelings get you killed. Please.”

Nagisa swallowed a lump in her throat as she looked at Miss Homura's face. Those violet eyes looked haunted and seemed like they were looking _through_ Nagisa instead of _at_ her. Unbidden, Nagisa heard what Miss Mami and Mr. Urahara had said after the older girl had run away:

_She has seen too many magical girls die._

“I won't die,” Nagisa blurted without thinking. Miss Homura's hand jerked away and her face looked shocked. Nagisa wiped her face on her poncho and straightened to look at her ashen-faced mentor. She hardened her face with determination, clenched her fists, and earnestly repeated, “I won't die!” as firmly as she could. “I'll do what you say, Miss Homura! I'll be a strong magical girl just like you!”

Miss Homura's face contorted oddly, somewhere between disbelief, relief, and despair, which made no sense to Nagisa. Her mentor's mouth opened and closed soundlessly; words seemed to fail her.

Nagisa breathed deeply, straightened her spine, and asked, “You-- you'll watch my back like Miss Mami and Mr. Hitsugaya do, won't you?”

Miss Homura's eyelashes fluttered in astonished blinking before she controlled her face and nodded seriously. “Of-- of course.” She shook herself slightly, cleared her throat, and pulled a rifle out of her shield. “Whenever you are ready,” Miss Homura said more evenly.

Nagisa took one more deep breath and jumped down from the balcony with her horn at the ready. The Familiars didn't attack her, so she carefully dodged them by avoiding crossing the brass tracks. When she was closer to the Witch, she nervously looked back. Miss Homura was completely still in her perch, rifle braced on the rail of the balcony as she tracked Nagisa with her face to the scope. The older girl noticed Nagisa looking, pulled back from the gun slightly to look at her and nod reassurance, then returned to intently watching everything around Nagisa through the scope.

Nagisa felt so much better knowing Miss Homura really did have her back. Like how Miss Homura didn't even have to check to see if her friends were protecting her.

When Nagisa was close enough for a clear shot, she inhaled deeply and blew on her horn. The Witch heard the sound and turned as the big bubble trapped it. Nagisa jerked back in surprised fear as she finally saw the poodle's face. The wide, dark-lashed eyes were spiraling with many colors and its mouth was a cavern of terrifying teeth as it attacked the inside of the bubble and slavered all over it. The bubble held, though, so Nagisa relaxed minutely and stepped closer on wobbly legs. By the time she reached the bubble, she was trembling all over.

_I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl--_

Nagisa settled the mouth of her trumpet right up against the big bubble. She had an up close and personal look into the Witch's snarling maw as she leaned toward the mouthpiece. It took effort to defy her instincts screaming that she needed to jump back because the creature was going to bite her face, but she managed.

_I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl--_

“I'm-- I'm sorry, puppy,” she whispered. Then Nagisa blew her horn.

_I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl--_

The stream of smaller bubbles threw the Witch against the far side of the big bubble and soon held it in place as though trapped in a spherical ball pit. It yipped and flailed uselessly as Nagisa backed away and stepped on a brass track. She only vaguely heard the loud cracks of the shots Miss Homura fired to methodically behead every clay automaton that spun toward her.

“I'm-- I'm _really_ s- _sor_ ry, puppy,” Nagisa whimpered as her vision went blurry with tears.

_I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl--_

She screwed her eyes shut and pressed the button on the side of her horn to make all the little bubbles explode. The Witch-dog made a horrible yelp of pain before falling silent. Nagisa dropped her trumpet and covered her face with her hands.

_I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl--_

Nagisa felt when the labyrinth collapsed and they were back in the real world. She tearfully peeked over her fingertips and saw the Grief Seed floating in the center of her big bubble, which was now hovering over the fire hydrant. She stared blankly at it until she felt a hand lightly settle on her shoulder.

“You did very well... Nagisa,” Miss Homura said softly.

_I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl, I'm a big strong magical girl--_

Nagisa's face crumpled, her legs gave out, and she plopped down into a muddy pothole and wailed.

_I want my mommy, I want my mommy, I want my mommy--!_

§ x § x §

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ….......WITCH DATA..........  
> UHRMANN, the Canine Witch with a craving nature. She has taken on the form of a dog in the vain hope of being loved by all. Humans who enter her barrier can't help but embrace her in concern. One hoping to defeat her can do so by feigning love.
> 
> Minion: BARTELS, whose duty is interior design. They have no will and are simply mannequins who revolve in place. A canine witch, unloved by anyone, was unable to create minions with free will.
> 
> § x § x §
> 
> A/N: Quit playing games with my heart, Nagisa.
> 
> Someone protect this child from me. Or me from her. She “rebelled” and refused to be happy about being a ~big kid~ and defeating the specific Witch I chose for her based on it being easy whoops. Got right up to the scene and my inner sense of her just balked and I fell apart.
> 
> (IRL, I have an old dog and I am being forced to confront her inevitable mortality. Then I basically wrote Magical Old Yeller.)
> 
> I really do appreciate your patience and warm welcome when I manage to finally post. You're the best readers. Just to be safe, assume the next chapter will be another month. I may surprise you sooner, but don't set yourselves up for disappointment lol.


	66. FÜNFUNDSECHZIG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy(???) 3rd birthday, Infinity!  
> Omg where did the time go? *ugly cry*

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**F ÜNFUNDSECHZIG**

**TIMELINE X + N + 1**

To say that Homura was out of her depth would be a gross understatement. Faced with a bawling, traumatized child, her mind completely shut down. All she could do was stand and stare uncertainly at Nagisa as the girl wailed her little heart out in a pothole. She should do something, but drew a complete blank. Madoka wold know what to do.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mami cooed as she swept past Homura, opened her arms, and descended on Nagisa with an embrace. “I know it was hard and scary, but you did so well!”

Nagisa was beyond words, but threw herself into Mami's arms. Mami didn't seem to mind being knocked onto her rear with her lap full of bawling child; Homura knew she would not have handled that well. Homura stared as her once-upon-a-time mentor rocked the girl, rubbed her back, and made quiet, soothing sounds into Nagisa's hair. Yoruichi trotted over from her lookout post and paced circles around the two magical girls as though anxious to lend comfort, but remained silent. Homura startled slightly when Hitsugaya tapped her shoulder and held the Canine Witch's Grief Seed out to her. Homura silently took it and stored it in her shield, then turned back to the other girls morosely.

“We heard you shooting,” Hitsugaya prompted her in a murmur.

Homura breathed deeply and centered herself, trying to unfreeze her mental gears. “She stumbled back onto a track in the middle of her attack. The dolls are not particularly dangerous, but still. She had a hard enough time as it was.”

His eyes slid from her own to Nagisa and back again, evaluating. “She took it out herself?”

“Yes.” Homura reached up and tiredly rubbed her brow. “It looked like a cute poodle, for the most part. So to her....” She trailed off and sighed. “She really is too innocent for this,” she added in a whisper.

Hitsugaya gave her a long, piercing look that made her uncomfortable.

“What?” she snapped irritably.

The shinigami heaved his own sigh and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he let his ice armor dissolve. “Later,” he said gruffly.

Homura narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth, but he stepped away from her and more loudly asked about what to do next.

Mami nudged the little magical girl's shoulder and gently said, “Nagisa, baby, is your daddy at home?”

Nagisa's words were unintelligible but the shake of her head was adequate. Mami looked up at them and raised her brows in inquiry. Homura and Hitsugaya traded glances and shrugged. Mami breathed out a little sigh and said, “My apartment is closer than the shop.”

“Your apartment it is, then,” Hitsugaya said with a nod. “Can you stand?”

Mami looked down at how Nagisa was sitting on her, then back up at him. “I might drop her,” she said ruefully.

Hitsugaya looked at Nagisa with regret as though he was the one who had made the little girl fight, fueling the regret Homura was feeling herself, and stepped closer to the two girls on the ground. He knelt, lightly touched Nagisa's shoulder, and cajoled her into letting go of Mami. She eventually did so, but immediately threw herself at him and clung to him. After a moment of surprise, Hitsugaya's face eased and he lifted her; the little girl shifted her grip and wrapped her limbs around him while she cried into his neck. The boy looked deeply uncomfortable, but the weeping girl didn't notice. He rubbed her back hesitantly in a attempt to comfort her. Homura thought the two looked like siblings with their matching white hair.

Good. People would be less likely to question a teenage boy in a school uniform carrying his soaked, crying “sister” “home.”

Mami stood and brushed dirty water from her skirt and Homura picked up Yoruichi. They hopped rooftops northeast until they were a few blocks from Mami's building, talked Nagisa into dismissing her battle costume, and went to Mami's building on foot. The evening commuters returning from work peered at the soaked quartet from under their umbrellas. Hitsugaya would make a vaguely apologetic face at them and the adults would look at him with fond approval and carry on with their business instead of thinking he was kidnapping a child.

Soon they were standing in the foyer of Mami's apartment with puddles of rainwater forming under them. Homura put Yoruichi down and flinched in annoyance when the cat immediately shook water out of her fur and sulkily licked her paws. They stood there for a moment as they processed what a mess they would make and listened to Nagisa, who had downshifted into tired, guttural, voiceless sobs.

“I have a mop,” Mami finally sighed in resignation.

“Wait,” Hitsugaya said. “I can do something. It'll be cold, though.”

The shinigami shifted Nagisa to one hip, lifted his freed hand, and muttered something with a frown of concentration. Blue-white light flickered over his palm and the air temperature dropped sharply. Moisture condensed and swirled toward the light. The girls shivered as the water in their clothes and hair chilled drastically before being caught in his magic and drawn away. It surprised Nagisa into blinking and looking up, then becoming entranced by the ice flower growing over Hitsugaya's hand. He moved it so she could see it better since it seemed to distract her, then took his shoes off using just his feet to draw water out of them. Homura and Mami followed suit and removed Nagisa's shoes for her. Yoruichi made a show of snarling as the water in her fur was pulled away as freezing mist. They were soon dry but shivering.

“Tha-that's use-useful,” Mami said with interest as her teeth chattered.

Hitsugaya hummed agreement and handed Nagisa the completed ice flower. The girl didn't seem to notice how cold it must have been. Shock?

Mami chafed her hands up and down her arms trying to generate warmth. “Come on. I'll get us blankets and something hot to drink.”

Yoruichi look off to wander the apartment, looking like she was just sniffing things curiously but probably making sure there wasn't an Incubator lurking around to eavesdrop. Homura joined Nagisa and Hitsugaya at the table, overriding her instinct to help fetch things in favor of watching Mami bustle about. She knew Mami's apartment like the back of her hand but couldn't reveal that. Instead, she conjured her shield, fetched Nagisa's things, and silently watched the shinigami awkwardly coax Nagisa into releasing him. He was unsuccessful at anything but prying the ice flower out of her hand and putting it on the table until Mami showed up with a thick blanket to wrap her in and a mug of hot cocoa for her to drink. Even then, she plopped right back into Hitsugaya's lap and leaned against him once bundled up, just facing the ice sculpture on the table instead of him while she sniffled between sips. Resigned to being Nagisa's chair, Hitsugaya just sighed, asked Mami for green tea instead of cocoa, and declined a blanket.

Mami smiled at him with something between affection and teasing. “You would make a good big brother.”

Hitsugaya sputtered a denial and looked away. Mami and Homura shared small smiles.

Mami joined them at the table and they spent a good fifteen minutes just warming up in silence. Homura had no idea how to start and was grateful when Mami took the initiative.

“Nagisa,” Mami said hesitantly, “I think... maybe you shouldn't fight in labyrinths.”

The little girl jolted to attention in protest. “I want to be a strong magical girl like you and Miss Homura!”

Mami looked down at her cocoa and looked conflicted. Homura knew she was aware that her strength was partly faked, but wasn't sure if she'd admit it aloud.

“I'm... not as strong as you think I am,” Mami said slowly.

“Few magical girls are,” Homura added, quiet and somber. “Forcing it has become key to preserving our sanity, is all.”

Mami startled and looked up at her with wide eyes. Hitsugaya looked at her sideways with a neutral expression. They had both noticed that she included herself in the statement.

“We are _all_ damaged in some way,” Homura continued. “Some of us are just better at pretending it away than others.”

“That's not true!” Nagisa argued.

“It...,” Mami said hesitantly, voice small, “It really _is_.”

Nagisa's face looked like the two senior magical girls had just taken a jackhammer to the pedestal she had put them on.

“Once you become as jaded as I have to survive, you will never be the same,” Homura said. “We would spare you from that if at all possible.”

Fresh tears streamed down Nagisa's cheeks. “I'm-- I'm not a b-baby. I can help. I'll be okay. I'll be b-better next time.”

“Maybe so,” Homura said as she looked at her mug. Then she raised her eyes to pin the little girl with a hard stare. “The issue is that we would _prefer_ that you not. We _do not want_ you to fight.”

Nagisa flinched at the rejection. Mami looked miserable but didn't disagree, instead adding, “We will share our Grief Seeds with you. But we want to keep you out of labyrinths.”

Yoruichi slunk out from under the table and curled up in Nagisa's lap as the girl shook her head in denial. “I'm a magical girl! I'm s'posed to protect people! You said so when I met you!”

Mami cringed. “I was... at least partly wrong.”

Hitsugaya interrupted the magical girl business for the first time, gently but firmly saying, “Their duty to protect is what drives them to protect _you_ , Mo-- Nagisa.”

“We would have prevented you from becoming a magical girl had we known the Incubator made you the offer,” said Homura.

“Like... how Miss Akemi kept Miss Kaname and Miss Miki from contracting,” Mami said slowly, seeming to understand Homura's actions more completely. As if she had factually understood her reasoning but the depth of feeling hadn't fully hit her.

Well, at least dealing with Nagisa would have _some_ kind of positive impact despite it falling apart.

Shaking with anger, Nagisa shouted, “I'm coming with you! We'll fight together! I'll be safe with you!”

“No,” Homura said flatly.

“I-- What if I just fight Familiars? I can do that!”

Mami closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she sat ramrod straight. She opened her eyes and gave Nagisa a stern look. “No. If you do show up, I will bind you in ribbons and shield you to keep you safe. End of discussion.”

Nagisa's face crumpled. She threw her empty mug at Mami, jumped to her feet, and shouted, “You're mean!” as Yoruichi scrambled and yowled at her sudden eviction from Nagisa's lap. Mami's battle instincts kicked in and she caught the mug before it could hit her in the face. Nagisa grabbed her things and ran for the door, sobbing, doubled back for her shoes, and hurried out into the hall. Mami half-stood to follow her but Homura barred her with her arm.

“Let her go.”

“But--”

Hitsugaya stood with a sigh. “I'll follow her on the rooftops and make sure she doesn't do anything stupid on her way home.”

Turning to him, Homura said, “Take Yoruichi. Drop her by Momoe's apartment. She thinks Momoe belongs to her by now and will at least protect her from the Incubator.”

The shinigami gave her a businesslike nod, looked at Mami and said, “I'll be back in a bit,” picked up Yoruichi, and hesitated before exiting by the front door instead of the balcony.

Once he was gone, Mami's eyes teared up. “We were cruel.”

“Mm.” Homura sipped her cocoa then said, “I am... glad you are capable of it.” She needed to shore up the bridge she was building with Mami, so she haltingly continued, “I... initially had difficulty steeling myself like that to protect other girls. Even if it hurt them.”

Mami didn't say anything, but she stared at Homura for a long time. Homura bore the scrutiny patiently. At long last, Mami quietly said, “All of this--” she waved her hand vaguely-- “has been harder on you than you let on. On your attitude, I mean. I knew the rest was hard. But... the way you behave with other girls.... ” She paused for a long moment, thoughtful. “You... didn't used to be like this, did you?”

Homura couldn't decide whether or not to be glad Mami could be very insightful when in her right mind. “Correct.”

“What... did you used to be like? Before all this?”

Ah, how to answer that question? “Shy. Soft. Naive. Passive. Timid. Optimistic, to a degree.”

The look on Mami's face said, _you are none of those things now and that is tragic_ , but she remained silent.

“What were you like?” Homura asked distantly.

Mami smiled bitterly. “Happy. And whatever the opposite of _lonely_ is.”

Homura merely nodded. They sat without speaking for a long time, simply keeping one another company and listening to the pattering of the rain while they shared cocoa. Homura didn't know what _this_ Mami was thinking, but she wished she could ask a Mami of dozens of timelines past if training Madoka, Sayaka, and Homura-- even Kyōko, in the time before Homura's reset point-- to overcome fear and gentleness in favor of battle readiness had been as depressing as trying to teach Nagisa. It probably had been, since it seemed to involve breaking girls of that which was _warm and soft_ to make room for _cold and hard_ and _that_ Mami had done it for at least four girls in that timeline. Upon reflection, Homura understood Mami's homicidal madness then far better now that she felt the guilt from her guidance of Nagisa backfiring. She sifted through old memories with new understanding.

“ _If Soul Gems give birth to Witches, then we have no choice but to die!”_

_Sayaka reduced to a Grief Seed by Homura's bombs in too many timelines to count._

“ _I thought Sayaka was a lost cause and that the only thing we could do for her was put her out of her misery.”_

_Kyōko, burying grief in anger, slamming a fist against the nearest object in the train station as she failed to restrain tears. “Sayaka--!” Miserable._

_Mami, seeing with sudden, horrifying clarity that she had cheerfully led her friends into inescapable condemnation to become that which they fought. “We have no choice but to die!” Miserable._

_Kyōko's Soul Gem shattered by Mami's bullet._

“ _Put her out of her misery.”_

_Mami's Soul Gem shattered by Madoka's arrow._

“ _Put her out of her misery.”_

_Madoka, kneeling on the train platform, sobbing for her lost friends-- three dead in one night. “I can't take it anymore!” Miserable._

_Madoka laying in the rubble of Mitakihara, shakily holding up her blackened Soul Gem. “Could I ask you... for one more thing? I... don't want to become a Witch.” Miserable._

“ _Put her out of her misery.”_

_Homura, screaming in agony as she pulled the trigger and Madoka's Soul Gem shattered. Miserable._

_Karin draped over Homura and rasping, “She was better off that way.” Miserable._

_Karin, staring at Yuzu's empty body, screaming screaming endlessly screaming. “I'D RATHER DIE!” Miserable._

_Karin again, listlessly wandering Urahara Shop like a haunted ghost, scratching at ribs she now remembered as a cage for her sister's corpse. “I'm really sorry about this.” Miserable._

_Homura herself threatening to kill the Sayaka of the timeline before this one if the stubborn girl refused to use a Grief Seed. Miserable. Both of them._

When it came to her threats against the last Sayaka, Homura didn't even know whether she had been serious or bluffing anymore. If she had been serious... hadn't that been similar to what that one version of Mami had done?

“ _I thought Sayaka was a lost cause and that the only thing we could do for her was put her out of her misery.”_

Homura looked up at Mami through her bangs, took in the way her former mentor was silently crying into her cold cocoa, and wondered about the line between _miserable_ and _lost cause_.

Perhaps they weren't so different. Perhaps Mami was no weaker than Homura. Perhaps the Mami of the time before had merely edged over the line into _lost cause_ territory a hair's breadth before Homura herself. And Homura now realized she had been straddling that border for a long time-- that she had cracked in the same instant, just more shallowly. That had been the timeline that broke the old _her_ and left the current _her_ to carry on, after all. She had thrown away nearly all sense of self and radically changed her very personality, vowed to never rely on anyone anymore, and spiraled down through more than time alone. Deeper and deeper, vision dimming and narrowing, only staving off completely drowning in despair by stubbornly holding her breath beyond reason. But no one could hold their breath forever.

How deep would she have sunken and how soon would she have drowned without that chance encounter with the Kurosaki girls? How soon would she have lost herself completely and become a Witch? Or worse?

“ _We have no choice but to die!”_

“ _The only thing we could do for her was put her out of her misery.”_

If Mami noticed the teardrops falling in Homura's cocoa, she was polite enough to not comment.

§ x § x §

Nagisa was still shaking with shame and rejection when she got back to her shabby apartment building. Her hands refused to cooperate, fumbling with and dropping the keys. She gave up and plopped down on her hands and knees to just try to breathe.

“Meow.”

Nagisa startled as Yoruichi threaded through her arms and purred. “H-how did _you_ get here, Yo-yo?” Of course, the cat just leaned into her arms. Nagisa automatically pet her, then stopped and pushed her away. “You're Miss H-homura's kitty, Yo-yo. Go ho-ome.”

The cat refused, doubling back with an annoyed meow to demand chin scratchies.

Pushing the cat away several times as she sniffled became pointless, so she picked up her keys and unlocked the door with a sigh. Yoruichi made to dart inside but Nagisa blocked her again. After a struggle of pushing the cat away with her foot and trying to pull her leg back in and close the door before the cat could slip through, the best Nagisa could do was getting only one paw stuck in the door so she couldn't close it without hurting Yo-yo. Fresh tears welled up in Nagisa's eyes as the cat meowed plaintively and she thought of the not-a-puppy's yelps. She held the door where it was with one hand, took a step back, and wiped her tears on her arm. Why should she think she had any business fighting Witches if she couldn't even manage a cat?

“What do I do?” she whimpered to herself.

_That is your choice, Nagisa Momoe._

Nagisa's eyes went wide and she whipped her head around to look into the dim apartment. Sitting near the little shrine to her mother was Kyu-- the Incubator.

 _I can lure the cat away if you like_ , it offered. _Then we can talk. It seems you have had a break with the others. I am concerned._

Her eyelashes fluttered as she tried to blink away her surprise. Struggling to make her mind work right, the first thing she blurted out was, “Get away from my mommy.”

Yoruichi's paw went still. Something nudged the door; Nagisa glanced down and saw Yoruichi's nose poking into the opening and sniffing.

The white creature stilled and looked at the shrine and urn as if it was just noticing it. _Oh, I beg your pardon._ It stood and walked to the other side of the room. _I apologize. Human grief rituals can be somewhat beyond me._

Yo-yo's paw resumed scratching and struggling more desperately, but Nagisa held the door where it was. A question that had burned in Nagisa's heart since her mother died rose to her lips unbidden. “Could you have made Mommy's cancer go away?”

Red eyes blinked. _Had you asked, yes._

Nagisa shook in disgusted rage. “Why didn't you _say_ so?”

 _You did not ask. You knew your wish as soon as I offered you a contract. I have had other girls make wishes to make another human happy prior to death, so it was not unreasonable to me._ It swished its tail and cocked its head thoughtfully. _For example, a mere few months ago, a girl north of Mitakihara had a grandmother who was on her deathbed, unlikely to regain consciousness and likely to live at most a few days without artificial life support. The girl respected the process of life and death as taught by her grandmother enough that her wish was simply for her grandmother to “return to her normal self until her lifespan runs out.” She was satisfied to acquire a day of normal domestic happiness with the woman before she died instead of watching her languish on her deathbed._ The creature bowed its head. _I thought you wanted something similar._

“I-- I _did_ , but-- but I would've-- if I knew-- I w-would've--”

Kyubey sighed as Yoruichi snarled and thrashed at the door. _I apologize. I was so certain you were firm in your choice._ It perked up. _Perhaps I could have you speak with other girls before I grant their wishes so you can make sure this does not happen to anyone else?_

Nagisa went still and turned the idea over in her head. “But Miss... Miss Homura said you take our souls out to make us magical girls,” she said slowly.

 _Correct._ Before Nagisa could ask a follow-up question, Kyubey innocently asked, _Would your soul becoming a physical object have been worth your mother's life?_

It was like a punch to the gut. All the air fled her lungs and she felt ill. “Yes,” she whispered. “But-- but I-- I messed up.”

Kyubey blinked at her and reiterated, _I cannot undo your choice, but if you like, you can try to educate other girls and help them in labyrinths._

Nagisa's face burned with shame again. “Miss Mami and Miss Homura said I sh-shouldn't fight.”

 _They cannot give you orders_ , Kyubey said, sounding like it was frowning though its face was still.

“But-- but I cried after the labyrinth this afternoon.”

_Many magical girls cry quite often when they are still beginners. Mami Tomoe cried after her battles for months when she first contracted._

“She did?” Nagisa asked in surprise. “But she's so strong.”

 _You can be, too, given practice_ , Kyubey said encouragingly. _You did well in the fight against Ayase and Luca Sōju, did you not?_

“I di-- um. Miss Homura got angry about it.”

 _I suspect Homura Akemi has ulterior motives for discouraging girls from developing their talents._ When Nagisa made a confused face, it said, _I think she has a hidden reason for stopping me from helping other magical girls become strong._

Nagisa frowned hard and the words of others rang in her memory.

“ _Never do that again! We could have killed you by accident, thinking you were safe when you were behind the enemy. The enemy could have taken you hostage. Never do that ever again!”_

“ _She has seen too many magical girls die.”_

“ _I need to know that you can protect yourself. I need you to not let your feelings get you killed. Please.”_

“Miss Homura is nice and sad and doesn't want magical girls to die,” Nagisa said sharply. She stood straighter. “ _I_ don't want other girls to die.”

 _All humans die eventually_ , Kyu-- the Incubator said mildly. _Most do not have the opportunity to die for a purpose-- especially those as young as you. Given the choice, would you rather die in the course of saving lives that their existence be less fleeting, or in a meaningless automotive accident?_

Nagisa hesitated uncertainly again, vaguely noting that it sounded like Yoruichi's free paw was clawing the wood of the door. The cat yowled more loudly than Nagisa had ever heard her. It brought to mind Mr. Urahara's words.

“ _I think I'll send Yoruichi home with you. She will protect you if the Incubator comes and tries to talk to you. It can say some tricky things.”_

“You're trying to trick me,” Nagisa said stubbornly.

 _Why do you think it is I who am trying to trick you, when Homura Akemi is obviously pushing you away and not telling you something?_ It looked at its swishing tail and lowly said, _What do you think Homura Akemi was doing when she was in seclusion at that shop this weekend? The inhabitants of that property are concealing something. The Sōju situation resolved rather well for all of you, so why would she hide? How did they so rapidly change Mami Tomoe after she moved in? Have they done something to her?_

Furious, Nagisa opened her mouth to yell a defense about Miss Homura getting help, but she choked it back when Yoruichi gave another of her loud yowls and reminded her of Mr. Urahara's words again. Plus other words.

“ _Yo-yo hates the Incubator and will fight it off tooth and claw.”_

Too angry to speak, Nagisa countered the Incubator's accusation by stepping aside and swinging the door wide open.

Yo-yo stumbled as the door she had been pressing on gave way, but immediately recovered and rocketed at the Incubator in a flurry of teeth and claws. The Incubator dodged and flickered around the apartment faster than Nagisa had thought possible as the black cat chased it. The creature made a break for the open door, jumped to the street-facing second floor railing, and was about to kick off from it when Yo-yo caught up to it with a better jump. They tumbled over the edge and fell together as Nagisa gasped and ran to look down. Both creatures did that funny cat thing where they twisted midair and landed on their feet in the scraggly bushes below. Yoruichi attacked again, clamping her teeth down on the back of the Incubator's neck and shaking it. The Incubator writhed and made one long ear pry the cat's teeth off it and clubbed it away with the other ear. The black cat scored one last hit, biting the end of its tail and being dragged halfway across the street before she lost her grip. Bloodied white fur disappeared in a blur as it fled. Yo-yo darted back and forth, hissing, spitting, and jumping with her hackles raised as she sought the enemy.

Nagisa didn't feel particularly bad about the Incubator's injuries, but that itself made her feel bad even though she was glad it was gone.

“Sacchan, _what_ just happened?”

Nagisa turned to her left. Daddy was standing near the stairs, holding his worn briefcase and looking out at Yo-yo, who was still yowling around the street in blatant challenge. A tabby cat slunk out from underneath a car and ran in terror as Yo-yo locked onto it and charged just enough to scare it off.

“Wha-what do you mean, Daddy?”

Daddy looked from her to Yo-yo to her to Yo-yo and rubbed his eyes. “Did-- was that-- did something come out of our door?”

“What?” Nagisa blurted in surprise.

“What was Yo-yo chasing?” he asked.

“Uh. Uh.” Nagisa looked back and forth between her father and the cat, who was so riled up she harried a dirty, tired construction worker who had just gotten off a bus. The man didn't have the energy to do more than irritably shove her away from his ankles with his work boots.

“What has her so angry?” Daddy asked as the construction worker shoved Yoruichi away and slammed his door in her face on his first try.

“Ummmm... there was a white kitty in the house when I opened the door and Yo-yo got mad.”

“Huh. I didn't see anything. I must've just missed it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then pressed on his closed eyes more firmly like he did when he got the headaches that made him see funny lights. “What was a strange cat doing in our apartment?”

Nagisa avoided his eyes and tried not to panic. “Um... I... I just got home and I dunno.”

“You just got home now?” Daddy asked with his eyebrows scrunched together. “Where were you all afternoon?”

“I... I went to see Miss Mami and her f-friends.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “We talked about... things.”

Daddy's face fell and he quietly asked, “About Mommy?”

That was a good reason to cry. “Yeee-eahhh.”

Daddy held out his arms and she ran to him. He patted her back and said, “We'll be okay, Sacchan. And I got some time off so we can be together. We'll figure things out. Mommy would want us to.”

Nagisa cried. Mommy would want to be alive.

§ x § x §

Tōshirō scowled from his position on a rooftop nearby and watched the Incubator land on a billboard across the street from him to nurse its wounds. That had to be a deliberate choice-- a dare for him to react or attack. A taunt. When it glanced back at him, Tōshirō crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

“You're doing yourself no favors,” he said loudly, wondering if the thing could read lips or hear better than humans. “It's not like you to be this blatant.”

 _I thought one such as you would be aware of the intersectional nature of blatancy and subtlety_ , it replied pleasantly before flickering away.

Ominous. What had it said to Nagisa?

§ x § x §

Kisuke was drowsily sipping tea and watching the sparse drizzle making rings in the koi pond that sparkled in the lantern light when Hitsugaya and Tomoe returned. Without Akemi. And it looked like Tomoe had been crying and Hitsugaya was concerned.

“Welcome home,” Kisuke said softly. “It doesn't seem to have gone very well. Where is Miss Akemi?”

“Akemi wanted some quiet time to think alone in her apartment,” Hitsugaya said disapprovingly. He heaved a sigh. “The labyrinth was easy. It was the aftermath that went sideways.”

Tomoe sniffled. “Poor Nagisa.”

Kisuke searched their faces, solemnly patted the boards and invited them to sit, then called out for Tessai to bring more tea. The two took turns describing the evening's events. When they were done, he sighed and said, “We'll have to figure something out for Miss Momoe once she calms down. At least Yoruichi won't let anything happen to her.”

“What if Nagisa tries to go into a labyrinth by herself?” Tomoe asked quietly.

A lazy grin stole across Kisuke's mouth. “Oh, that kittycat has her ways. And remember that Miss Momoe has the charm bracelet. One of the little bells and whistles I put in it was a minute signal that trips an alarm here if it disappears-- such as by going into a labyrinth.” He sipped from his cup and said, “Let Miss Miki and Miss Kaname know you're unharmed. Tell them a rough summary of what happened, including that the Incubator made contact with Miss Momoe.” After a pause, he added, “Ask Miss Kaname to check on Miss Akemi periodically through the night.”

Tomoe stared dully into the courtyard and seemed to withdraw into her own mind as Hitsugaya tapped out text messages and discussed Kaname's replies, which were as Kisuke had expected. Hitsugaya raised a brow at his lack of surprise for some, but didn't directly comment. They sat in comfortable if morose silence for awhile as the scent of Tessai cooking dinner wafted out to them. Their meal was subdued. Tomoe looked lost afterward.

“Miss Tomoe, do you have anything you need to do tonight?”

The girl blinked owlishly and shook her head.

Kisuke smiled slightly. “Would you like to join Tessai as he finalizes ward design for Miss Kaname's house?”

Perking up in interest, Tomoe asked, “Wards?”

“Like those protecting this property,” Kisuke said with a vague gesture around them. “Apparently, Miss Kaname's father is spiritually aware. We spoke in person yesterday and by phone while you were gone this evening. He requested wards and plans to speak with Miss Kaname tonight about some... family history she was unaware of.”

“O-oh. That's... Is that good or bad?”

Kisuke chuckled. “Good, I think.” He smiled at her and said, “So if you'd like something to do that may be mutually educational, Tessai said you would be welcome to join him.”

“Mutually educational?”

Tessai hummed agreement. “I hope to see how our techniques may remind you of anything you are capable of so we can compare. And you may learn something in the process. I've given Miss Akemi some literature on theory, but she has initially focused more on studies in healing others.”

“Has she?” Tomoe asked brightly. “It can be very difficult, especially at first.”

“Perhaps you could work with her,” Kisuke cheerfully suggested.

Tomoe smiled and chirped agreement, snatching the opportunity to do something constructive with both hands. She soon joined Tessai and Hitsugaya in cleaning up before their project. Kisuke smiled faintly at them bustling around with dishes before retreating to his labs.

He had Soul Gems to study.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for sticking around with me through three years of writing this monster. Some of you reviewers have been with me since the beginning; special thanks to you, and I'm so happy I've managed to keep you interested this long hahaha. I would have lost steam long ago if not for everyone's continued feedback. You have helped me grow as a writer and overcome some very difficult times. I love you for it.


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